MR!      I 

JxOvSV/.O/XW/'    »-•>    >*  '.'/.':  ;'  *,V     ,:-••',/',•'  '.'""••- 


£1 


mm 


1 


JOHN  DOE  AND  RICHAKD  ROE. 


JOHN   DOE  AND   RICHARD  ROE; 


OB, 


EPISODES  OF  LIFE  IN  NEW  YORK, 


BY 

EDWAUD  S.   GOULD. 

AUTHOR   OF   "ABRIDGMENT   OF  ALISON'S  KUBOPB ;"   "THE  81.BBP  BID«B;'*"TH1 
VERT   AGB,"    A   COMEDY  J   BTC.,  ETC.,  ETC.,  ETC. 


NEW    YORK: 
Carle fon,    Publisher,  413  Broadway, 


(LATE  KUDD  A  CARLETON.) 

MDCCCLXII. 


ENTERED,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1862,  by 
EDWARD    S.    GOULD, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Clerk  of  the  United  States  Court,  for  the  Southern  District  of 
New  York. 


W.  H.  TIHSON,  Stereotyper. 


O.  Rcssrii,  Printer. 


THIS   VOLUME   IS   INSCRIBED  TO 
THE    HONORABLE    GEORGE    GOULD, 

OXE  OF  THE  JUSTICES  OF  THE  SCPREME  COUBT  0*  THE  STATE  OF  KEW  TOBK, 
BY 

HIS  BROTHER. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  MOT 

The  Law's  Delay,      .  ...."...         9 

CHAPTER  II. 
Richard  Roe, 20 

CHAPTER  III. 
Green  Spectacles, 27 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Gammon, 40 

CHAPTER  V. 
Doctors, 46 

CHAPTER  VI. 
John  Doe, 56 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Jack  and  Gill, 65 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Bread  on  the  Waters, 73 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Jars  and  Sweetmeats, 80 

CHAPTER  X. 
It  never  Rains  but  it  Pours,    .        .         .         .         .         .         .95 

CHAPTER  XI. 
A  Rod  in  Pickle, 110 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Jars  without  Sweetmeats, 115 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Brown  at  Home,       .        .         .         .         .         .         .  .     122 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Wilson  at  Hdme, .        .131 

CHAPTER   XV. 
Rabbit  at  Home, 141 


Vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XVI.  pica 

Rum  and  Water, 148 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Progress, 155 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A  Valentine, 165 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Varioloid, 177 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Fancy  Financiering, 185 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Margaret  Roe, -     .        .        .        .     193 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Off  and  on  the  Track,      . 201 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

Tom  and  Phebe,       . 210 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Roe  has  his  Hands  Full, 217 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Wilson  Smells  a  Rat, 229 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Wilson  on  Emigration, 239 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Roe's  Profits  and  Losses, 247 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Rabbit's  Profits  and  Losses, 255 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  Dusseldorf, 263 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

Margaret  and  Sam, 276 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
Reunion, 283 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 
Jackson's  Account  Current, 287 

CHAPTER   XXXIII. 
Traverse's  Brief, 293 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
John  Doe  vs.  Richard  Roe, 297 


JOHN  DOE  AND  RICHARD  ROE. 


CHAPTEK  I. 

THE     LAW'S      DELAY. 

As  you  cross  the  Park  diagonally  between  the  City 
Hall  and  the  Hall  of  Records,  you  observe  a  crowd 
of  men  on  the  steps,  and  around  the  steps,  of  a 
square,  brown-stone,  four-story  building — which,  to 
be  precise,  has  one  front  on  Chambers-street  and 
another  on  the  Park. 

You  inquire,  "  What's  the  matter  there  ?  What's 
the  excitement  ?  Is  anything  up  ?" 

Nothing  special.  At  least,  nothing  unusual.  That 
building  has  its  own  uses  and  its  own  history. 

The  apartments  on  the  ground-floor,  left  side  of 
the  hall,  are  occupied  by  the  collector  of  the  city 
taxes  and  his  deputies.  He  annually  handles  some 
ten  millions  of  what  was  the  people's  money.  His 
bureau  is  a  sort  of  maelstrom  toward  which  flow 
streams  of  coin  from  every  imaginable  point  of  the 
compass.  I  should  like  to  know  the  fractional  sub- 
division of  NNW.  by  ISfW.  a  little  W.,  or  any  other 
nautical  line,  whence  and  along  which  money  does 
not  find  its  way  into  the  strong-box  of  this  function- 

1*  y 


10  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

ary  !  A  meteorologist  will  tell  you  about  due  north, 
due  east,  and  so  on :  but  here  the  dues  are  not 
confined  to  the  cardinal  points:  it  is  perpetually 
due,  due,  due,  from  all  points — cardinal,  sacerdotal, 
and  geometrical.  What  becomes  of  all  this  money 
after  the  collector  has  absorbed  it,  is  little  to  our 
present  purpose. 

Cross  this  ground-floor  hall  to  the  right,  and — if 
you  can  gain  admittance — you  see  a  dark,  dingy, 
carpetless  room,  filled  with  long  wooden  benches  and 
wooden-bottomed  chairs,  which,  in  turn,  are  filled  by 
men  and  women,  who  may  have  seen  better  days,  but 
whose  days,  just  now,  seem  to  be  none  of  the  bright- 
est. Who  are  they,  do  you  ask  ?  These  are  witnesses 
in  attendance.  Some  of  them  have  "attended"  for 
two  or  three  days  past,  with  a  mixture  of  resignation 
and  impatience ;  some  have  just  arrived,  and  wonder 
they  are  kept  waiting  at  all,  for  their  subprenas  say 
"  nine  o'clock  precisely,"  and  the  city  clocks  are  all 
banging  out  "  ten  "  at  that  instant ;  and  others,  hav- 
ing important  business  elsewhere,  are  preparing  to 
"  leave,"  and  take  the  consequences.  Suddenly  a 
bell  rings,  and  a  door  opens  into  an  adjoining  room, 
rather  better  furnished,  and  somewhat  better  lighted, 
through  the  length  of  which  run  two  long  tables, 
connected  at  the  further  extremity  by  a  curve,  around 
the  outside  of  which  are  seated  something  less  than 
twenty-four  respectable  citizens,  known  for  the  time 
being  as  the  Grand  Jury.  I  presume  you  know  what 
a  Grand  Jury  is — or  should  be ;  and  we  will  pass  on 
to  the  next  floor  above. 

On  thJ8  stage,  or  story  of  the  building,  sits  the 
Supreme  Court  in  its  various  departments — Circuits, 
Chambers,  Special  Term  and  General  Term ;  terms 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHARD   EOE.  11 

intelligible  enough  to  the  initiated,  but  the  precise 
definition  of  which  is  here  pretermitted. 

Ascend  a  second  flight  of  stairs,  and  you  come  bolt 
upon  the  entrance  to  the  rooms  of  the  District  Attor- 
ney— an  officer  whose  duties  in  part  precede  and  in 
part  follow  the  action  of  the  Grand  Jury ;  an  officer 
of  high  trust  and  great  power ;  a  man  who  can  "  put 
through"  indicted  offenders  on  the  right  or  the 
wrong  side  of  justice  very  much  as  he  pleases,  and 
without  any  particular  reference  to  the  merits  of  the 
case ;  a  man,  in  short,  who  is  able  to  do  more  than 
any  man  ought  to  be  able  to  do,  unless  he  is  perpen- 
dicular in  personal  and  official  integrity. 

Cross  this  hall,  and  you  find  yourself  in  the  arena 
where  the  District  Attorney's  ministerial  functions 
having  terminated,  his  executive  duties  begin ;  where 
our  Recorder  and  City  Judge  alternately  preside; 
where  criminal  law  is  the  rule  of  action,  and  where 
justice  is  very  unequally  distributed  among  mis- 
cellaneous offenders.  We  call  this  the  Court  of 
Sessions. 

Toil  up  one  more  flight  of  stairs,  and  the  signs 
tell  you  that  you  are  in  close  proximity  to  the  seve- 
ral departments  of  the  Marine  Court — a  court  of 
various  and  somewhat  anomalous  jurisdiction,  but  a 
court  where  old  sailors  will  find  very  few  marines, 
should  they  happen  to  be  looking  for  them. 

!N"ow,  after  this  hurried  glance  through  the  brown- 
stone  building  with  two  fronts,  you  will  not  be  much 
at  a  loss  to  understand  why  so  many  people,  in  small 
knots  and  large  groups,  are  crowded  around  it. 
Jurors,  witnesses,  parties,  counsel,  and  miscellaneous 
spectators,  are  there;  and  when  you  add  to  those, 
more  or  less  of  all  who  have  to  do  with  the  collector 


12  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHARD   ROE. 

of  taxes,  you  perceive  that  the  varieties  of  our  male 
population  are  there  tolerably  well  represented. 

This  brown-stone  building  with  two  fronts  is  named 
the  "  New  City  Hall."  We  will  step  into  it  for  a 
few  moments.  This  is  the  floor,  or  story,  appropri- 
ated by  tlje  Supreme  Court,  and  this  room  is  its 
"  Circuit,  Part  One."  Here,  too,  is  a  crowd  of  men, 
with  their  hats  on,  who  seem  to  be  talking  against 
time,  for  the  court  "  opens "  at  ten  o'clock,  and  it  is 
past  that  already. 

Time  does  not  pass  very  rapidly  when  one  is  wait- 
ing ;  and,  as  we  are  spectators,  we  seem  to  have  been 
looking  about,  studying  physiognomy  and  architec- 
ture, for  at  least  a  quarter  of  an  hour ;  my  watch, 
however,  shows  that  it  is  but  twelve  minutes  past 
ten.  Suddenly  a  knocking  is  heard,  hats  are  taken 
off,  men  seat  themselves,  a  respectable-looking  citizen 
is  seen  on  "the  bench,"  and  another  citizen,  not 
quite  so  respectable-looking,  stands  at  the  end  of 
"  the  bench,"  remarking,  in  moderately  loud  tones : 

^Hear  ye!  hear  ye!  all  tpmnqromtttssjkiabret 
IcHlmdoifhhhdbcdefghijJdmnopqrstiimoxyz  *  *  — 

I  am  not  quite  sure  what  that  man  said,  but  pro- 
bably other  people  understand  him,  for  you  see  they 
have  come  to  order.  This  proceeding  is  called  "  open- 
ing the  court,"  and  it  has  the  effect  of  closing  a  great 
many  people's  mouths. 

The  business  of  the  day  centres  around  "  the 
bench,"  where  the  judge  is  seated  at  an  elevation  of 
two  feet,  listening  to  half  a  dozen  men  in  front  of 
him,  who  seem  to  be  all  talking  at  once.  They  poke 
up  papers,  and  take  back  papers,  and  read  papers ; 
while  the  judge,  with  great  blandness  and  no  little 
skill,  keeps  them  both  busy  and  in  suspense.  This 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  13 

tiling  has  lasted  about  twenty  minutes,  and,  for  all 
that  a  spectator  can  see,  nothing  has  been  accom- 
plished ;  when  the  judge  announces  that  he  will  "  call 
the  calendar,"  and  the  standing  men  lapse  into  chairs 
to  listen. 

"  John  Doe  against  Eichard  Roe." 

"  In  that  case,  if  the  court  please,"  remarks  an 
eminent  lawyer,  "  there  has  been  a  great  difficulty  in 
finding  witnesses  on  "both  sides,  and  we  would  like 
the  case  to  be  reserved,  specially." 

"  I  can  give  no  preferences  till  I  get  through  with 
the  calendar.  John  Doe  and  others  against  Richard 
Roe." 

"In  that  case,  if  the  court  please,"  remarks  an 
eminent  lawyer,  "  a  demurrer  has  been  entered,  and 
we  want  time " 

The  judge,  it  seems,  also  "wants  time,"  and  with- 
out waiting  to  hear  the  eminent  lawyer,  he  proceeds: 

"  John  Doe  and  others  against  Richard  Roe  and 
others." 

"  Ready  for  the  plaintiff,"  remarks  an  eminent 
lawyer. 

"  If  the  court  please,"  remarks  an  eminent  lawyer, 
"the  principal  counsel  for  the  defendant  is  now 
engaged  in  the  Superior  Court." 

"  Is  he  trying  a  cause  ?" 

"  He  is  trying  a  cause,  if  the  court  please." 

"John 'Doe  and  several  others  against  Richard 
Roe." 

"  Ready  for  the  defendant,"  remarks  an  eminent 
lawyer. 

"  If  the  court  please,"  remarks  an  eminent  lawyer, 
"  we  are  not  prepared  to  try  that  case,  and  would  like 
to  have  it  go  over  for  the  term." 


14  JOHN   DOE   AND   RIC1IARD   ROE. 

"  If  the  court  please,"  remarks  an  eminent  lawyer, 
"  we  have  been  here  through  three  entire  terms,  read} 
to  try  this  case,  arid  every  time  have  been  met  by  my 
learned  friend  with  the  same  excuse.  If  the  gentle- 
man presses  for  further  delay,  I  shall  move  that  the 
complaint  be  dismissed." 

"  I  presume,"  remarks  an  eminent  lawyer,  "  that 
this  honorable  court  will  not  listen  to  the  base  insinua- 
tions  " 

Rap,  rap,  rap,  rap,  of  the  judge's  hammer,  an- 
nounces that  this  honorable  court  will  listen  to  no 
"  insinuations." 

"  Why  are  you  not  prepared,  Mr.  Hoe  ?" 

"  If  the  court  please,"  responds  the  eminent  lawyer, 
"  we  have  several  reasons.  My  learned  friend  well 
knows " 

"  If  the  court  please,"  interrupts  the  eminent  law- 
yer on  the  other  side,  "I  know  nothing  of  the 
kind." 

Rap,  rap,  rap,  rap,  again  informs  the  learned 
friends  that  the  honorable  court  will  not  listen  to  this 
form  of  debate. 

"  As  I  was  saying,"  continues  the  eminent  lawyer 
for  the  plaintiff,  "my  client  is  at  this  moment  sit- 
ting on  the  jury  in  the  Common  Pleas,  in  the  well- 
known  case  of  Doe  versus  Roe  ;  the  testimony  is  not 
yet  concluded,  and  there  are  five  eminent  coun- 

Rpl " 

c)\_.  1 

"  Cannot  this  case  be  tried  in  his  absence,  Mr. 
Roe  ?"  inquires  the  judge. 

"  Impossible,  if  the  court  please,"  responds  the  emi- 
nent lawyer ;  "  my  client  is  his  own  principal  witness, 
and  no  one  else  is  fully  conversant  with  the  facts." 

"  If  the  court  please,"  replies  the  eminent  lawyer  for 


JOHN   DOE    AND    RICHARD   ROE.  15 

the  defendant,  "  this  is  the  seventh  time  this  case  has 
been  called ;  we  have  always  been  ready ;  we  have 
no  less  than  three  witnesses  here  from  Boston,  who 
have  been  called  here  solely  tQ  testify  in  this  case : 
and  I  am  prepared  to  show  that  my  learned  friend's 
client  managed  by  collusion  to  get  himself  impanelled 
on  the  jury " 

"  I  do  trust,"  interrupts  the  eminent  lawyer  for  the 
plaintiff,  "  that  this  honorable  court  will  protect  my 
client  from  the  aspersions  of  my  learned  friend " 

"  Gentlemen,  I  cannot  listen  to  all  this.  Do  you 
state,  Mr.  Roe,  that  your  client  is  an  important  wit- 
ness in  this  case,  and  that  he  is  now  sitting  as  a  juror 
in  a  case  actually  on  trial  in  the  Common  Pleas !" 

"  I  do  so  state,  if  the  court  please,"  replies  the  emi- 
nent lawyer  for  the  plaintiff;  "  and  I  will  make  an 
affidavit  to  that  effect,  if  my  learned  friend  insists  on 
it." 

"  That  can  hardly  be  necessary.  Mr.  Doe,  I  must 
pass  this  case  for  to-day." 

Mr.  Doe  scowls,  grumbles,  and  retires,  notifying 
his  three  Boston  witnesses  that  they  can  go. 

"  John  Doe  and  a  great  many  others  against  Rich- 
ard Roe." 

"  Ready  for. the  plaintiff,"  says  an  eminent  lawyer. 

"  If  the  court  please,"  rejoins  an  eminent  lawyer, 
"we  are  not  prepared  to  try  this  case.  My  part- 
ner, Mr.  Roe,  is  engaged  in  a  case  in  the  Superior 
Court," 

"  Is  the  case  you  speak  of  actually  on  ?" 

"  It  is,  if  the  court  please." 

"If  the  court  please,"  says  the  plaintiff's  eminent 
lawyer,  "  I  would  like  this  case  to  be  specially  re- 
served for  to-morrow.  This  is  the  fourteenth  time  I 


16  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

have  been  here  with  my  witnesses,  twenty  in  number, 
and  every  time  my  learned  friend  on  the  opposite 
side  has  been  engaged  in  some  other  court." 

"  It  is  a  hard  case,  Mr.  Doe ;  I  will  see  what  I  can 
do.  I  must  first  go  on  with  the  calendar.  John  Doe 
and  a  great  many  others  against  Richard  Roe  and  a 
great  many  others." 

"  Ready  for  the  defendant,"  says  an  eminent  law- 
yer. 

"If  the  court  please,"  rejoins  an  eminent  lawyer, 
"  we  are  not  prepared  to  try  that  case.  Mr.  Roe,  who 
has  had  sole  charge  of  it  from  the  beginning,  is  now 
engaged  in  a  case  actually  on  trial  in  the  United 
States  Court." 

"  I  suppose  I  must  pass  it,  then,  Mr.  Doe  ?" 

"  If  the  court  please,"  replies  the  defendant's  emi- 
nent counsel,  "  this  is  positively  the  twenty-third  time 
I  have  been  here  with  my  witnesses — three  from  Chi- 
cago, two  from  Baltimore,  and  one  from  Cincinnati— 
and  in  every  instance  my  learned  friend  on  the  oppo- 
site side  has  been  engaged  in  some  other  court." 

"  I  really  have  no  option,  Mr.  Doe.  I  cannot  order 
a  trial  to  proceed  when  counsel  are  absent.  John 
Doe  and  so  forth  against  Richard  Roe." 

"  Ready  for  the  plaintiff,"  says  an  eminent  lawyer. 

"  If  the  court  please,"  rejoins  an  eminent  lawyer, 
"it  is  with  the  utmost  concern  that  I  announce  to  my 
learned  friend  on  the  other  side,  that  Mr.  Roe,  my 
colleague,  who  has  had  exclusive  control  of  this  case, 
is  now  trying  a  case  in  the  Marine  Court." 

"  Then  I  must  pass " 

"If  the  court  will  indulge  me  for  one  moment," 
interrupts  an  eminent  lawyer  ;  "  my  client  is  on  the 
eve  of  departing  for  Europe ;  he  has  been  here  with 


JOHN   DOE    AND   RICHARD   ROE.  17 

his  witnesses  from  different  parts  of  the  country, 
more  than  twenty  several  times,  and  in  each  instance 
my  learned  friend  011  the  opposite  side  has  offered 
this  identical,  verbatim^  excuse." 

"  What  is  your  motion,  Mr,  Roe?" 

"  If  the  court  please,  that  this  trial  proceed,"  an- 
swers the  defendant's  eminent  lawyer. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  cannot  oblige  you,  Mr.  Roe.  The 
rule  is  fixed  that  the  court  cannot  order  a  case  on 
when  counsel  are  absent." 


Do  you  find  this  tedious,  my  good  sir  ? 

I  must  confess,  I  find  it  rather  monotonous. 

Ah !  you  think  you  have  heard  the  same  thing 
several  times  repeated  ?  Well,  you  are  not  far  wrong, 
though  the  cases  all  represent  different  parties  and 
different  causes  of  action.  Yet,  tedious  as  this  may 
seem  to  a  spectator,  and  annoying  as  it  must  be  to 
the  various  parties  in  interest,  the  precise  counterpart 
of  all  this  may  be  witnessed  five  days  in  every  week, 
in  every  court-room  of  this  metropolis,  every  month 
of  every  year.  It  in vol vesf  the  loss  of  time  and  often 
the  loss  of  something  much  more  important  than 
time,  to  hundreds  of  people  who  are  compelled  to 
resort  to  the  law  for  a  defence,  or  a  recovery,  of  their 
rights.  On  that  point,  as  you  will  readily  see,  I 
might  enlarge  indefinitely. 


The  foregoing  account  of  a  day  in  court  is  suffi- 
ciently accurate  in  details  for  all  practical  purposes. 


18  JOHN    DOE   AND   EICHAED   EOE. 

The  only  essential  variation  from  what  is  there  of 
constant  occurrence,  is,  that  in  place  of  the  bad  Irish 
in  which  every  E"ew  York  lawyer  addresses  the  judge, 
good  English  is  here  substituted.  The  lawyers  all 
say,  "  may  it  please  your  honor  ;"  "  if  your  honor 
please ;"  "  your  honor  ruled,  or  decided,  so  and  so :" 
each  of  which  expressions  is  vulgar  Irish,  and  not 
English  at  all.  Paddy  from  Cork,  who  is  the  verita- 
ble author  of  the  phrase  "  yer  honor,"  carries  the 
thing  rather  further  than  the  lawyers  do :  he  applies 
it  to  every  man,  lay  or  professional,  whom  he  con- 
siders his  superior.  But  it  is  Ms  language,  to  whom- 
soever applied,  and  not  the  language  of  educated 
men. 


its  continuance,  probably,  to  a  vague  misapprehension 
that  "honor"  is  in  fact  a  title.  It  is  not  so. 
"Majesty"  is  a  title.  "Highness,"  "Excellency," 
"  Grace,"  "  Lordship,"  "  Lord,"  are  also  titles.  And 
therefore  "  your  majesty,"  or  "  his  majesty ;"  "your" 
or  "  his "  highness,  excellency,  grace,  lordship,  and 
"  my  "  lord,  are  correct  English  terms.  But  "  honor  " 
not  being  a  title  in  any  possible  sense,  "  your  "  and 
"  his  "  honor  are  mere  vulgarisms. 

How  the  objectionable  phrases  ever  came  to  be  so 
generally  adopted  by  men  of  education,  is  neither 
here  nor  there.  That  question  is  foreign  to  the  pur- 
pose. Those  who  choose  to  go  into  it,  will  never  get 
beyond,  nor  above,  the  Paddy  aforesaid :  and  if  any 
professional  man  will  venture  to  cite  Paddy  as  actual 
authority  in  a  philological  court,  he  will  find  himself 
ruled  out. 

Judges  of  Courts,  State  and  United  States  Sena- 
tors, Representatives  to  Congress,  and  some  other 


JOHN    DOE    AND   EICHAKD   ROE.  19 

officials  are  bj  courtesy  designated  "  the  honorable ;" 
but  that  is  a  mere  prefix,  an  epithet,  an  adjective ;  it 
is  not  in  any  sense  a  title.  Nor,  therefore,  can  the 
process  of  manufacturing  it  into  a  substantive — honor 
— make  that  a  title. 

Would  it  not  be  better,  hereafter,  for  the  educated 
members  of  the  profession  to  speak  English  when 
addressing  the  presiding  officer  of  a  court  ? 


CHAPTEE   II. 

EIOHAED   EOE. 

RICHARD  ROE  was  about  forty-five  years  of  age,  six 
feet  high,  and  well  proportioned.  His  face  was 
nothing  particular.  Neither  was  his  dress.  He 
would  pass  in  a  crowd,  without  attracting  attention 
by  his  appearance.  He  differed,  externally,  from  no 
one  of  ten  thousand  men,  excepting  in  his  walk,  which 
was  a  kind  of  shuffling  gait,  suggestive  of  profit  to 
his  boot-maker.  He  barely  raised  his  foot  from  the 
ground  at  the  beginning  of  a  step,  and  the  latter  half 
of  the  step  was  a  slide,  or  scrape,  admirably  adapted 
to  the  frittering  away  of  sole-leather. 

Richard  was  what  is  called  a  man  of  standing  in 
the  community.  He  lived  in  his  own  house,  drove 
his  own  horses,  figured  in  all  the  published  lists  of 
charity  and  benevolence,  and  had  the  credit  of 
expending  fifteen  or  twenty  thousand  dollars  a  year : 
hence,  he  was  supposed  to  be  wealthy.  Moreover, 
he  responded  audibly,  sang  loud,  and  knelt  low,  in 
church ;  and,  as  he  paid  liberally  toward  building  the 
church,  owned  a  square  pew,  was  a  member  of  the 
vestry,  carried  around  the  plate  with  more  unction 
than  any  of  his  colleagues,  and  was  particular  to 
attend  the  weekly  evening  lectures  of  the  church — 
and  to  tell  of  it — he  was  supposed  to  be  righteous, 
much. 

Again,  Richard  was  a  man  of  large  charity ;  not 
so 


JOHN   DOE   AND    RICHARD   ROE.  21 

of  the  pocket,  but  of  the  heart.  Scriptural  charity. 
The  charity  that  thinketh  no  evil  of  any  man,  unless 
any  man's  evil  had  touched  Richard  personally.  For 
example,  if  the  confidential  manager  of  a  money- 
corporation,  or  the  trustee  of  an  estate,  or  any  person 
who  had  custody  of  large  sums  of  other  people's 
money,  proved  to  be  a  defaulter  to  the  extent  of 
millions,  so  long  as  Richard  was  not  himself  a  loser 
by  the  default,  he  could  never  find  it  in  his  heart  to 
proscribe  the  thief.  He  would  speak  gently  of  the 
robber.  He  would  take  him  by  the  hand — if  nobody 
was  looking  on. 

Richard  was,  or  had  been,  the  president  of  a  great 
many  incorporated  companies — as  Coal,  Railroad, 
Insurance,  Banks,  and  what  not  ?  and  the  fact  of  his 
having  once  e'njoyed  the  confidence  of  so  many  stock- 
holders and  boards  of  direction,  clearly  showed  that 
he  was  a  man  of  great  executive  ability — at  least, 
such  would  have  been  the  inference  in  men's  minds, 
if  any  of  those  incorporated  companies  had  chanced 
to  prosper  under  his  management.  Nevertheless,  he 
had  the  reputation  of  great  shrewdness  and  forecast 
in  the  investment  of  money.  His  judgment  was  sup- 
posed to  be,  or  to  have  been,  a  little  better  than  his 
neighbors'  in  such  matters,  and  he  was  often  the  first 
man  applied  to,  for  private  information  about  the 
good  things  that  were  lying  about  the  market,  wait- 
ing to  be  snapped  up  by  early  birds.  His  connection 
with  so  many  corporations  gave  him  peculiar  facilities 
for  knowing  the  nooks  and  corners  where  worms  lay 
hid,  and  many  were  the  friends  made  glad  by  being 
allowed  to  come  into  such  pickings  "on  bottom 
principles."  Richard  was  remarkable  for  the  mode- 
ration of  his  own  views,  in  such  cases.  After  getting 


22  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAKD   ROE. 

his  friends  fairly  "in"  an  enterprise  which  made  for- 
tune a  sure  thing  to  those  who  would  only  hold  on, 
he  was  sure  to  sell  himself  slyly  "  out "  to  the  last 
applicant  for  a  paltry  fifteen  or  twenty  per  cent, 
profit — the  said  fifteen  or  twenty  per  cent,  advance 
being,  in  fact,  the  "  bottom  principle  "  on  which  the 
last  applicant's  predecessors  had  all  been  "  let  in." 

The  strict  impartiality  of  Richard  in  thus  letting 
people  into  good  things  was  another  feature  of  his 
well  balanced  character.  He  made  no  distinction 
between  rich  and  poor,  friend  and  foe.  He  treated 
all  alike.  A  relative  who  had  but  a  few  thousands 
stood  the  same  chance  for  eventual  profit  as  the  out- 
sider who  was  rich :  and  Richard  pocketed  his  little 
twenty  per  cent,  from  the  former  as  calmly  as  from 
the  latter — but  always  with  the  solemft  assurance  to 
each  that  each  was  let  in  on  bottom  principles. 

Richard  was  a  model  man  in  his  own  family.  He 
rose  up  early,  sat  up  late,  and  ate  the  bread  of  care- 
fulness. He  was  punctilious  about  family  prayer. 
Of  a  morning,  that  might  be  set  down  as  a  sure 
thing,  as  it  was  his  main  dependence  for  the  day. 
He  relied  on  it  as  confidently  as  on  winding  his 
watch.  The  latter  made  him  all  right  in  interests 
temporal ;  the  former,  in  those  eternal.  For  no  man 
knew  better  than  he  that  a  good  long  family  prayer 
of  a  morning  is  like  a  large  deposit  in  the  bank  at 
ten  o'clock:  it  provided  for  any  incidental  tricks 
which,  in  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day,  he  might 
find  opportunity  to  practise  on  his  customers.  The 
prayer  was  so  much  to  his  credit  in  the  Books  above : 
it  furnished  a  fund  of  grace  to  draw  on  ;  and  a 
balance  to  credit  there,  as  elsewhere,  secured  him 
against  being  overdrawn.  To  omit  the  morning 


JOHN   DOE   AND    BICHARD   ROE.  23 

prayer,  would  have  been  almost  as  bad  as  to  neglect 
his  watch  or  his  bank  account.  As  to  evening 
prayer,  although  his  thirst  for  that  service  was  not 
less  parching  than  for  the  morning  service,  impedi- 
ments-would present  themselves.  The  cares  of  this 
world,  arising  from  the  deceitfulness  of  riches,  de- 
spite all  his  precautions,  would  now  and  then  inter- 
fere with  that  season  of  refreshment.  But  Richard 
was  equal  even  to  that  disappointment.  It  never 
crushed  him.  He  would  look  placidly  around  the 
room  and  remark  that  accidents  must  sometimes 
happen  in  the  best  regulated  families.  But  when- 
ever the  service  took  place,  the  edification  was  great. 
Richard's  fluency  in  prayer  was  prodigious.  He 
never  stuck  for  a  word,  and  it  must  be  acknowledged 
that  his  word  was  generally  the  right  one.  If  any 
man  was  ever  heard  for  his  much  speaking,  that 
man  was  Richard  Roe.  He  was,  at  times,  as  some 
people  thought,  rather  familiar  in  his  form  of  address 
to  the  Deity.  He  occasionally  impressed  his  audi- 
ence with  an  idea  that,  somehow  or  other,  he  stood 
on  remarkably  good  terms  with  the  Power  he  was 
ostensibly  supplicating ;  and  that  he  asked  for  things 
in  a  way  that  might  perhaps  prevent  anybody  else, 
who  should  so  ask,  from  obtaining  them.  Certain 
it  is,  that,  for  a  bruised  and  broken  reed,  he  exhi- 
bited an  astounding  quantity  of  backbone  in  family 
prayer. 

Richard,  like  all  pious  and  conscientious  men,  was 
sensitive  to  the  opinions  of  others  as  touching  his 
walk  and  conversation.  If  a  thing  of  questionable 
propriety  was  proposed  in  his  family,  his  first 
thought  was,  not  whether  the  matter  was  innocent 
and  proper  in  itself,  but  what  would  Doctor  Per- 


24  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

kins  and  Deacon  Brown  think  or  say  of  it  ?  He 
was  very  solicitous  about  the  appearance  of  evil. 
He  knew  he  was  all  right,  but  he  wished  other 
people  to  know  it.  He  was  unwilling  that  his  good 
should  be  evil  spoken  of.  He  was  for  a  long  time 
time  perplexed  about  drawing  the  line  between  per- 
mitted and  forbidden  public  amusements.  The  secu- 
lar lecture  seemed  to  be  all  right ;  the  unmitigated 
theatre  was  perhaps  all  wrong.  Concerts  and  the 
opera  were  safe  middle  ground.  But  "Mblo's" 
tried  him  sadly.  A  large  portion  of  his  circle 
patronized  Niblo's,  and  it  was  very  embarrassing  to 
be  inquired  of  by  half-and-half  people  in  society, 
why  he  did  not  take  his  family  to  see  the  Ravels  ? 
It  is  generally  believed  that  he  whipped  the  devil 
around  the  stump,  by  allowing  the  members  of  his 
family  to  go  to  any  place  of  amusement  on  invitation 
from  serious  people. 

Richard  had  persuasive  ways,  adapted  to  winning 
golden  opinions  from  all  sorts  of  persons.  For 
instance,  religious  persons.  Put  him  into  a  party 
of  church-going  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and,  before 
he  has  been  there  twenty  minutes,  all  the  ladies  and 
half  the  men  will  be  perfectly  convinced  that 
Richard  Roe  is  the  only  really  pious  person  in  the 
room. 

Richard  affected  fine  books,  fine  furniture,  and 
fine  pictures.  His  actual  knowledge  of  such  matters 
was  very  limited.  But  he  made  up  for  that,  by  pay- 
ing extravagant  prices :  for  it  is  worthy  of  remark, 
that  while  in  his  business  he  screwed  farthings  out 
of  both  rich  and  poor,  and  in  his  charities  he  made 
shillings  do  the  work  of  dollars,  he  was  not  only 
free,  but  foolishly  lavish,  in  home  expenditures. 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   ROE.  25 

Tims,  his  furniture  was  costly,  but  ill  assorted ;  his 
books  were  trashy,  but  well  bound ;  his  pictures 
were  daubs,  but  richly  framed.  He  was  fluent, 
however,  in  designating  the  merits  of  his  pictures. 
But  he  never  quite  comprehended  the  difference  be- 
tween depth  of  shade  and  breadth  of  shade,  depth  of 
coloring  and  breadth  of  coloring,  transparency,  per- 
spective, relief,  fiddle-de-dee  and  so  on. 

Richard's  physiognomy  was  peculiar  in  one  fea- 
ture :  his  upper  lip  .was  an  eighth  of  an  inch  too 
long — which  is  considerable  in  a  man's  lip,  though 
not  much  in  a  carving  knife.  The  lip  was  also 
flabby  and  meaty ;  and,  moreover,  to  those  who 
knew  the  man  well,  it  was  what  sailors  would  call  a 
"  tell-tale "  on  Roe's  veracity.  When  Roe  had  a 
point  to  carry,  or  to  defend,  he  put  on  what  he  in- 
tended to  be  a  benignant  and  persuasive  smile, 
though  the  thing  often  turned  out  to  be  a  sorry 
grin :  and  whenever,  hereaway,  he  was  telling  the 
truth,  the  big  upper  lip  would  answer  the  helm,  and 
go  the  way  that  the  under  lip  did.  But  when  Rich- 
ard was  lying,  the  big  lip,  as  if  it  were  a  talisman 
placed  there  by  Providence  to  betray  him,  became 
suddenly  rigid  and  impracticable.  It  would  quiver 
under  the  impulse  of  the  tiller-ropes,  but  it  would 
not  move  to  the  right  hand  or  the  left.  In  short,  it 
would  not  join  in  the  smile.  And  hence,  by  watch- 
ing the  upper  lip  of  Richard  Roe  when  he  was  get- 
ting up  a  persuasive  smile,  any  one  could  tell  at  once 
and  unerringly  whether  he  was  lying. 

This  detailed  account  of  Richard  Roe,  banker  ana 
church- member,  however  tedious  to  read,  is  indis- 
pensable to  remove  a  popular  prejudice.  A  great 
many  people,  even  among  the  more  cultivated  classes, 

2 


26  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

entertain  a  belief  that  Richard  Roe  is  a  myth.  But 
they  are  deceived.  Richard  Roe  is  no  myth.  He 
knows  it.  His  family  know  it.  His  friends,  if  he 
has  any,  know  it.  His  enemies — and  he  has  plenty 
of  them — know  it.  His  debtors  know  it.  Every 
one  who  has  had  money  dealings  with  him  knows  it 
— to  his  cost.  No,  indeed !  Richard  Roe  is  no 
myth. 


CHAPTER  III. 

GEEEN    SPECTACLES. 

THE  family  were  out  of  town  for  the  summer ;  and, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  certain  details  of  housekeeping 
were  attended  to  negligently — if,  indeed,  they  were 
attended  to  at  all.  For  example,  the  clocks  were 
wound  up  at  odd  times,  after  having  run  down  in 
their  own  time :  and  that  is  the  reason  why  the  clock 
on  the  bedroom  mantlepiece  of  the  house  No.  T13 
Queer-street,  now  struck  twelve,  when  the  hands  on 
the  index  indicated  two  o'clock.  Two  o'clock  P.M. 
was  in  fact  the  hour. 

The  clock  happened  to  be  a  fast  striker :  so  fast, 
that  the  striking  reached  the  ear  in  a  confused  and 
continuous  ring,  unless  you  were  on  the  alert  and 
watching  for  it.  And,  consequently,  the  striking  of 
this  clock  was  often  mistaken  for  the  ringing  of  the 
door-bell,  especially  if  the  occupant  of  the  room  was 
in  a  brown  study.  That  was  the  fact  in  the  present 
instance.  He  started  from  his  chair,  ran  toward 
the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  in  the  extremity  of  his 
surprise  and  agitation  accidentally  let  off  a  mild 
oath : 

"  Who  the  h—  is  that  ?" 

It  proved  to  be  nobody. 

"  Pshaw !"  exclaimed  the  gentleman,  provoked 
with  himself  for  having  been  frightened,  yet  grati- 
fied that  after  all  there  was  no  occasion  for  fright, 

27 


28  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   ROE. 

"  it's  only  that  infernal  clock.  "Why  don't  they  let 
the  noisy  thing  run  down  ?" 

Sure  enough.  Why  don't  they  let*  it  run  down  ? 
But  rather,  why  should  the  striking  of  a  clock,  or  the 
ringing  of  a  door-bell,  give  such  a  shock  to  a  respect- 
able citizen  ? 

The  truth  is,  the  man  was  in  trouble ;  at  least, 
doubt ;  at  least,  perplexity.  He  had  a  thing  to  do 
which  he  feared  to  do,  and  feared  to  leave  undone. 
It  had  been  on  his  mind  for  weeks.  He  had  delayed 
his  action  in  the  premises  until  delay  became  decid- 
edly dangerous.  The  very  last  chance  was  now  flit- 
ting rapidly  away. 

He  resumed  the  seat  from  which  the  clock  had 
startled  him :  looked  vacantly  at  the  clock :  looked 
at  a  portrait  hanging  above  it :  and  thence  his  eyes 
wandered  slowly  along  the  wall  and  up  to  the  ceiling. 
Finally,  he  closed  them.  They  might  as  well  have 
been  closed  the  whole  time,  for  all  the  service  they 
had  rendered.  The  entire  man  was  absorbed  in 
thought ;  and  his  physical  functions,  if  they  acted  at 
all,  did  so  mechanically. 

At  length  he  aroused  himself;  and,  by  his  prompt- 
ness, seemed  likely  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  He 
took  his  watch,  porte-monnaie,  and  sundries  from  his 
pockets ;  took  off  a  ring  from  his  finger ;'  replaced 
a  diamond  breast-pin  with  a  pearl  button ;  placed 
these  valuables  in  a  drawer  of  a  dressing  bureau  ; 
locked  the  drawer ;  and  dropped  his  bunch  of  keys 
into  a  vase  on  one  side  of  the  clock.  He  then  put  in 
his  pocket  a  roll  of  something  in  brown  paper  that 
seemed  to  be  heavy  for  its  size,  took  from  the  table 
a  pair  of  double  green  spectacles,  which  he  also 
pocketed  ;  and  thus,  with  nothing  about  his  person 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAItD   KOE.  29 

but  these  two  articles  and  some  loose  silver  change, 
he  rang  his  bell  and  walked  down  stairs. 

"  Bridget,"  said  he,  as  the  girl  answered  the  bell, 
"  I  am  going  to  Long  Island,  and  shall  not  be  home 
until  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Will  you  be  in  to  breakfast,  sir  ?"  inquired  the 
girl. 

"  Yes.  Probably."  And  he  was  quickly  in  the 
street,  on  his  way  down  town.  He  took  his  course 
through  the  Fourth  Avenue  and  the  Bowery,  where 
nothing  seemed  to  attract  his  attention  but  the 
apothecaries'  shops.  These  he  eyed  carefully  as  he 
passed  along ;  and,  at  length,  finding  one  empty  of 
customers,  he  walked  in. 

"  I  want,"  said  he  to  a  man  in  attendance,  "  an 
ounce  or  two  of  chloroform." 

"  For  inhaling  ?"  inquired  the  man. 

"  Eh — yes ;  for  inhaling,"  said  the  gentleman.  "  I 
didn't  know  that  there  are  two  kinds." 

"  You  have  a  physician's  prescription,  I  presume  ?" 
said  the  careful  apothecary. 

"  Certainly,"  answered  the  gentleman,  with  great 
readiness  and  confidence,  although  he  did  not  pro- 
duce it.  That  was,  in  fact,  a  part  of  the  business 
that  he  had  not  contemplated  nor  provided  for.  But 
a  gentleman  of  his  position  and  appearance  was  not 
likely  to  be  disobliged  by  a  Bowery  apothecary :  the 
man  would  take  the  gentleman's  word,  of  course. 
Indeed,  as  the  shopman  was  already  busy  in  pre- 
paring the  vial,  probably  he  would  not  recur  to  the 
prescription.  The  vial  was  speedily  filled,  corked, 
labelled,  and  papered. 

"  How  much  ?"  inquired  the  gentleman. 


30  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

"Four  and  sixpence.  And — the  prescription,  if 
you  please,"  answered  the  apothecary. 

The  gentleman  had  thrown  down  the  change  and 
extended  his  hand  for  the  vial ;  but  the  apothecary 
retained  it. 

"  We  are  obliged,"  said  he,  "  to  be  very  particular. 
We  never  deliver  things  of  this  kind  to  strangers 
without  an  order." 

"It's  very  odd!"  said  the  gentleman,  who  had 
been  eagerly  diving  into  one  after  another  of  his 
pockets  to  find  what  never  was  there :  "  it's  very 
odd  !  Doctor  Jenkins  gave  me  the  paper  this  morn- 
ing— pink  paper,  too,  as  I  remember — I  must  have 
left  it  on  my  table.  Well.  I  am  going  directly 
home.  Let  that  boy  jump  into  the  car  with  me,  and 
I'll  send  it  back  by  him  and  pay  his  fare." 

This  was  plausible,  and  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
things.  Therefore  the  apothecary,  though  apparently 
with  some  reluctance,  assented. 

"  I  say,  Tom,"  said  he  to  the  boy,  "  mind  you 
hurry  back,  now." 

The  first  car  that  came  along  proved  to  be  rather 
full  of  people. 

"  My  lad,"  said  the  gentleman  to  Tom,  "  go  for- 
ward there  and  find  a  seat.  I  want  to  speak  to  the 
conductor." 

"Tom  went  forward  quite  contentedly.  The  gentle- 
man handed  two  fares  to  the  conductor;  and  then, 
fortunately  remembering  that  he  had  forgotten  some- 
thing, he  stepped  from  the  platform  while  the  car 
was  in  motion.  Tom  probably  had  a  nice  ride,  and 
a  nice  time  of  it,  looking  for  the  gentleman  when  the 
ride  was  at  an  end.  But  the  gentleman  was  else- 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHAKD   ROE.  31 

where,  having  been  industriously  pursuing  an  oppo- 
site course  ever  since  he  stepped  from  the  platform. 

"When  the  gentleman  reached  Centre-street,  he 
found  the  sunlight  oppressive  to  his  eyes  ;  and,  in  a 
stealthy  way,  he  put  on  his  green  spectacles.  Yet 
other  people  found  no  difficulty  about  the  sunlight, 
for  the  luminary  had  just  then  passed  behind  a  cloud 
that  was  ominously  dark,  and  threatened  rain. 

Everybody  knows  that  the  Tombs-front  is  on 
Centre-street,  so  that  a  few  steps  brought  the  gentle- 
man in  specs  to  the  Franklin-Btreet  entrance,  ground- 
floor,  keeper's  room. 

The  keeper  knew  the  gentleman  in  specs ;  indeed, 
he  knew  him  by  his  specs;  for  the  gentleman  had 
been  there  twice  before,  on  the  same  errand,  and 
each  time  had  found  spectacles  necessary  to  protect 
his  eyes. 

"You  are  wishing  to  see  Wilson  again,  sir,  I 
suppose  ?"  said  the  keeper. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  gentleman ;  "  I  am  going  out 
of  town  this  afternoon,  and  I  understand  his  trial 
comes  on  to-morrow.  I  want  to  say  a  word  or  two 
to  the  poor  devil." 

"  Yes,  sir,  certainly ;  very  kind  of  you,  I'm  sure, 
sir,"  rejoined  the  keeper.  "  Here,  Bill,  show  this 
gentleman  to  number  thirteen." 

Bill  had  already  twice  previously  shown  the  gen- 
tleman to  number  thirteen,  and  was  therefore  in  a 
manner  acquainted  with  the  gentleman.  Besides,  in 
walking  through  stone  corridors,  even  with  strangers, 
one  likes  to  be  conversable. 

"  Nice  day,  sir,"  hazarded  Bill. 

"  Yes,  yes.  Rather  warm,  though.  Looks  like 
rain." 


32  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   ROE. 

"  Shouldn't  wonder,  sir.  Rain,  they  say,  is  much 
a  wanting.  Eyes  still  troublesome,  sir  ?" 

"  Eyes  ? — oh,  yes ;  very." 

"  Specs  must  be  a  great  relief  to  weak  eyes ;  but 
not  much  use  here,  sir,  a  body  might  suppose.  What 
with  the  specs  and  what  with  the  clouds,  it's  rather 
dark  just  along  here.  Mind  that  pail,  please,  sir. 
This  is  number  thirteen.  Should  I  wait,  sir  ?"  unlock- 

^  ' 

ing  the  door,  and  partly  opening  it. 

"No.  I  won't  trouble  you.  I  may  be  detained. 
Come  back  in  half  an  hour,  Bill,  and  here's  a  trifle 
to  drink  my  health  when  you  get  a  chance." 

"  Against  rules,  sir,"  muttered  Bill,  casting  an  eye 
up  and  down  the  passage,  to  ascertain  i£  any  one  was 
witness  to  the  gentleman's  liberality;  "much  obliged 
to  you,  sir.  I  must  lock  you  in,  sir,  bu^  I'll  be  back 
in  time." 

And  the  gentleman  was  locked  in,  accordingly, 
and  Bill  withdrew.  The  prisoner,  Wilson,  was  sitting 
on  his  bunk  with  a  newspaper  in  his  hand,  although 
the  cell  was  just  then  too  dark  for  him  to  read  the 
news. 

_  Wilson  was  confined  and  about  to  be  tried  on  an 
indictment  for  forgery.  He  had,  some  years  pre- 
viously, been  a  confidential  clerk  of  the  gentleman  in 
specs.  But  that  gentleman,  either  suspecting  Wilson 
of  dishonesty,  or  finding  him  too  inquisitive  as  to  the 
private  details  of  the  business,  and  too  intelligent  to 
be  put  off  with  evasive  answers,  managed,  through 
indirect  intriguing,  to  persuade  a  neighboring  firm 
to  make  Wilson  a  very  advantageous  offer  for  his 
services :  in  short,  to  offer  Wilson  inducements,  pri- 
vately, to  leave  his  employer.  In  this  way,  the 
gentleman  relieved  himself  from  the  espionage  of  a 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

troublesome  clerk  without  (as  he  supposed)  making 
an  enemy  of  him.  Wilson,  for  a  time,  got  on  very 
well  in  his  new  situation ;  but  at  last  things  went 
wrong,  and  he  was  discharged. 

There  has  been  a  deal  of  discussion  "  in  the  books" 
as  to  the  length  of  time  needed  to  make  a  thorough- 
going rascal  out  of  a  previously  honest  man.  Some 
contend  that  rascality  grows  slowly,  like  an  elm; 
others,  that  one  good  opportunity  brings  it  into 
immediate  and  full  development,  like  a  mushroom. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  Wilson,  being  hard  upjbr  ready 
cash,  had  forged  the  name  of  his  last  employers  on  a 
bank  cheque,  which  was  well  executed  and  readily 
paid.  Subsequent  imprudence,  on  his  part,  led  to 
his  arrest,  the  money  was  found  in  his  possession, 
and  he  was  fully  identified  by  the  teller  of  the  bank 
as  the  person  who  presented  the  cheque. 

The  gentleman  in  specs  had  taken  a  deep  interest 
in  Wilson's  situation — especially  after  their  first  inter- 
view, when  Wilson  informed  the  gentleman  that 
whereas  the  gentleman  had  once  suspected  him  of 
dishonesty,  he,  Wilson,  had  also  suspected  him  of 
dishonesty,  and  had  taken  possession  of  certain 
papers  in  the  gentleman's  own  handwriting,  which 
very  prettily  proved  Wilson's  suspicions  to  be  well 
founded :  and  that,  as  matters  now  stood,  he  wouldn't 
mind  surrendering  those  papers  to  the  gentleman, 
conditioned  that  the  gentleman  should  get  him  out 
of  his  present  dilemma. 

"  I  began  to  fear  you  were  not  coming,"  said  Wil- 
son, as  the  gentleman  took  a  seat  on  the  only  bench 
in  the  cell. 

"  I  was  detained  at  home  by  visitors,"  the  gentle- 
man replied  ;  "  but  there's  plenty  of  time,  plenty 


34  JOHN   DOE   AND    RICHARD   ROE. 

of  time,"  he  repeated  in  a  doleful  tone,  "  for  what  we 
have  to  do,  and  for  me  to  be  caught  in  doing  my 
share  of  it.  You  will  be  a  great  gainer  by  me,  this 
time,  Wilson." 

"  Some  little  percentage  of  profit  on  your  side,  sir, 
I  think,"  Wilson  rejoined,  sneeringly. 

"  Don't  talk  so,  Wilson,"  said  the  gentleman ; 
"  pray  don't  talk  so.  You  entirely  misapprehend 
the  nature  of  those  transactions.  I  could  show  you 
that  that  was  all  fair  between  man  and  man.  You 
have  th^  papers,  though?"  he  continued,  suddenly 
changing  his  tone.  "  Not  that  they  are  of  any 
intrinsic  importance  ;  but  in  the  hands  of  third  per- 
sons, and  without  my  explanations,  they  might  cer- 
tainly be  made  to  look  suspicious.  You  have  the 
papers  ?" 

There  was  no  doubt  about  that.  He  had  them, 
snug.  A  little  rap  with  his  left  hand  indicated  the 
place  where  he  kept  them  under  his  jacket. 

"  Oh,"  continued  the  gentleman,  "  you  needn't  be 
so  cautious  with  me.  You  must  place  them  in  my 
hands  at  last ;  and  we  haven't  much  time  to  lose." 

"  All  right,  sir,  no  doubt,"  responded  Wilson ; 
"but,  on  whatever  ground  you  put  it,  we  must 
exchange  commodities.  I  must  take  if  I  give." 

"  Pshaw !"  replied  the  gentleman,  impatiently, 
"  don't  affect  punctilio  now.  You  must  trust  me  in 
the  first  instance  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case. 
Besides,  my  interest  in  your  future  welfare  ought  to 
satisfy  you  that  I  shall  carry  through  what  I  have 
begun.  Give  me  the  papers." 

"  It  doesn't  matter  much,"  rejoined  Wilson,  after 
a  pause.  "  1  have  them  by  heart,  and  I  could  repro- 
duce them,  word  for  word,  if  I  find  myself  deceived. 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHAED   ROE.  35 

The  facts  are  the  main  thing,  after  all."  And  so 
saying,  he  placed  the  parcel  in  the  gentleman's 
hands. 

That  individual  carefully  examined  the  papers ; 
and,  if  Wilson  had  taken  the  trouble  to  note  it,  the 
temporary  paleness,  succeeded  by  a  temporary  red- 
ness, of  the  gentleman's  face,  seemed  to  contradict 
the  valuation  he  had  so  recently  put  upon  the  parcel. 
The  examination  finished,  he  put  the  documents  into 
a  side  pocket  of  his  coat,  and  buttoned  his  coat  up 
to  his  throat,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  is  sure  he 
has  done  a  good  thing. — But  if,  in  the  masquerading 
prank  which  forms  a  part  of  his  programme,  he 
should  become  excited ;  and  if,  in  his  excitement, 
arising  from  the  novelty  and  danger  of  his  situa- 
tion, he  should  become  forgetful ;  and,  in  his  for- 
getfulness,  should  omit  one  thing  mechanically  small, 
yet  practically  of  greater  magnitude  than  all  the 
rest ; — of  what  avail  will  be  the  sacrifice  and  the  risk 
that  the  gentleman  in  specs  is  about  to  incur  ?  A 
man  who  involves  himself  with  culprits,  and  trifles 
with  the  law,  needs  to  have  all  his  wits  about  him  ! 

"  Now,  "Wilson,"  said  the  gentleman,  with  consi- 
derably increased  confidence,  "  we  will  proceed 
according  to  the  programme.  Here  is  the  money ; 
one  thousand  dollars  in  gold.  Where  that  will  carry 
you,  and  what  it  will  do  when  you  get  there,  you 
understand  without  further  explanation.  We  must 
now  change  clothes  :  or  rather,"  he  added,  with  a 
thrill  of  disgust  as  he  took  a  survey  of  Wilson's  tat- 
tered garments,  "  you  must  put  on  my  clothes,  and  I 
will  take  possession  of  your  bunk.  (Another  thrill 
of  disgust ;  but  there  was  no  help  for  it.)  You  are 
about  my  height ;  not  unsiniilar  in  person ;  and 


36  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   ROE. 

these  spectacles  will  go  far  to  disguise  your  face ; 
while  the  darkness  of  the  storm  that  has  now  provi- 
dentially come  to  our  assistance,  together  with  the 
improbability  that  so  bold  a  design  can  be  suspected, 
renders  success  sure.  You  will  escape  to  a  cer- 
tainty." 

"  And  you  ?"  inquired  Wilson. 

"  Never  fear  for  me :  my  plan  is  all  right,  when 
you  are  fairly  out  of  the  way,"  answered  the  gentle- 
man. "  Come  ;  hurry  with  your  dressing,  and  then 
I  have  a  few  more  words  to  say." 

He  put  the  vial  of  chloroform  under  the  pillow  of 
the  bunk,  divested  himself  of  his  clothes,  managed 
to  double  the  blanket  of  the  prisoner's  bed  in  such 
a  way  that  he  avoided  contact  with  the  sheets,  and 
then  laid  himself  down. 

"Wilson,  with  corresponding  promptness,  encased 
himself  in  the  gentleman's  apparel,  which  really  fit- 
ted him  to  a  hair.  And  when  the  hat  and  spectacles 
were  mounted,  the  resemblance  was  so  complete  that 
the  gentleman  felt  quite  oppressed  with  a  sense  of 
his  own  surpassing  cleverness. 

It  is  useless  to  ignore  a  familiar  truth.  There  is  a 
moral  effect  in  dress.  A  man  well  clad  is  twice  the 
man  he  was  in  shabby  garments.  His  deportment, 
his  feelings,  his  very  thoughts,  are  elevated  as  by  the- 
touch  of  a  conjurer's  wand.  So,  therefore,  was  it 
with  "Wilson  ;  and  so,  reversely,  was  it  with  the  un- 
clad gentleman — the  gentleman  wrapped  in  a  prison- 
er's blanket.  A  sense  of  humiliation  and  degrada- 
tion so  pressed  on  him  that  he  was  near  bursting  into 
tears.  He  was  so  entirely  overcome  by  his  feelings 
that  for  a  few  moments  he  seemed  to  be  incapable  of 
carrying  out  what  was  so  boldly  begun. 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   ROE.  37 

"  Wilson,"  he  said,  at  length,  "  you  are  now  about 
to  leave  the  country  forever.  Of  course,  you  will 
never  think  of  returning.  When  you  are  once  in 
safety,  set  about  a,  thorough  reformation  in  your 
character  and  conduct.  Go  and  sin  no  more.  Good 
bye.  God  bless  you." 

Wilson — not  making  allowances  for  what  was 
passing  in  the  distressed  gentleman's  mind,  and  -by 
no  means  sympathizing  with  his  depressed  and  alter- 
ed tone — Wilson  was  at  first  inclined  to  laugh  at  this 
sudden  transformation ;  but  real  passion  has  its 
vpower,  as  dress  has,  and  it  is  not  easily  counterfeited. 
Seeing,  therefore,  that  the  emotion  of  the  gentleman 
was  genuine,  Wilson  took  him  by  the  hand,  and,  in 
all  sincerity,  bade  him  an  affectionate  farewell. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  he,  "  I  am  afraid  you  will  get 
into  trouble  here.  I  am,  really." 

The  tone  of  genuine  sympathy  had  its  effect,  in 
turn,  and  the  gentleman  replied  with  renewed  firm- 
ness, "  There's  no  sort  of  danger,  thank  you.  My 
plan  is  what  I  call  fireproof.  Now,  then,  to  simplify 
matters,  and  to  dispense  with  your  services  in  the 
assault  we  agreed  on,  I  hit  myself  thus"  he  continued, 
rising  in  the  bed  and  actually  giving  himself  a  blow 
with  his  fist  between  the  eyes  that  set  his  nose  to  bleed- 
ing. "  By  Jupiter,  that  was  a  settler,  though  !  I  needn't 
have  hit  quite  so  hard.  No  matter.  This  vial,  now" 
(feeling  for  it  under  the  pillow) — "  you  take  it  out  of 
the  paper  and  uncork  it.  There.  That  will  do.  Set 
it  on  the  floor  where  it  will  stand.  Now,  you  know, 
you  attacked  me  suddenly ;  knocked  me  down :  put 
me  into  a  state  of  insensibility  with  that  chloroform  ; 
dressed  yourself  in  my  clothes ;  passed  yourself  off 
on  the  turnkey  for  myself,  when  he  came  to  let  me 


38  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

out:  and  then,  boldly  and  deliberately  walking 
away,  you  escaped." 

"My  dear  sir!"  exclaimed  Wilson,  with  a  burst 
of  enthusiastic  admiration,  "  this  is  worthy  of  Jack 
Sheppard !  But  about  the  chloroform  ?  How  will 
you  manage?  Suppose  you  should  overdose  your- 
self?" 

"  Don't  you  be  unhappy  about  that !"  replied  the 
gentleman.  "  Do  you  think  I  am  fool  enough  to  use 
it,  in  fact  ?  No,  no.  It  must  be  here,  to  account  for 
my  position  by  and  by,  when  the  safe  time  arrives 
for  making  myself  known.  As  for  the  sleep  and  the 
stupor,  I  can  put  on  as  much  of  them  as  the  circum- 
stances may  require." 

Then,  looking  about  him,  and  beginning  once  more 
to  appreciate  the  risk  and  the  degradation  of  his 
position,  he  continued  in  an  altered  tone,  "  Make 
sure  of  your  safety  now,  Wilson,  and  then  consider 
your  ways." 

"  But,"  inquired  Wilson,  whose  mind,  just  now, 
was  running  on  things  physical  rather  than  things 
moral,  "how  shall  I  manage  the  turnkey?  he  may 
recognize  me  by  my  voice." 

"Say  all  you  have  to  say  to  him  in  whispers," 
replied  the  gentleman,  "and  then  he  can't  observe 
your  voice.  Tell  him,  the  prisoner  is  asleep  and 
don't  want  any  supper.  I  gave  him  a  fee  as  I  came 
in,  and  he'll  be  civil,  expecting  another  next  time. 
All  must  go  well  now.  What  a  condition,  though, 
am  I  in  1  Good-bye,  Wilson !  Remember  your 
childhood  and  its  lessons;  and  the  Sunday-school, 
with  its  experiences.  Reform,  Wilson.  Turn  from 
every  false  way.  Be  a  good  man.  Pray  for  strength 
from  on  high — there's  Bill  /" 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAKD   ROE.  39 

The  turnkey  accordingly  unlocked  the  door,  re- 
marking that  the  time  was  up;  but,  as  it  was  raining 
cats  and  dogs,  the  gentleman  would  probably  sit 
awhile  in  the  office. 

"  Hush !"  said  "Wilson,  in  a  mysterious  whisper, 
"  he's  asleep.  Quite  down-hearted,  too.  He  said 
not  to  bring  him  any  supper.  If  he's  asleep  then, 
don't  wake  him.  As  for  the  rain,  that's  neither  here 
nor  there.  I  can  jump  into  a  car.  Never  mind  me. 
I'll  find  my  way  out." 

And  he  pushed  on  accordingly,  favored  by  the 
darkness :  bowed  to  the  open  door  of  the  keeper's 
office  as  he  passed  it ;  and  was  out  of  sight  around 
the  corner  before  anybody  could  say,  Jack  Ro- 
binson. 

The  devotional  mood  of  the  incarcerated  gentle- 
man, so  abruptly  disturbed  by  Bill's  return,  was  fast 
coming  back  upon  him,  as  Bill  retired  with  his  late 
prisoner.  The  gentleman  listened  attentively  for  a 
few  moments.  All  was  still.  All,  therefore,  was 
well.  No  news  was  good  news  in  this  case,  if  never 
in  any  other.  A  minute  elapsed.  Two  minutes. 
Five  minutes. 

"  Safe !  safe !  Heaven  be  praised  !  That  Wilson 
is  a  good  man  at  heart.  He  will  escape  ruin,  and  he 
will  reform.  His  precious  soul  may  be  saved  by  this 
very  means,  and  that  end  will  justify  those  means. 
God  be  merciful  to  him,  a  sinner — and  to  me,  a  sin- 
ner! for  he  who  saves  a  soul  from  death " 

"  DAMNATION  !" 

And  he  leaped  from  the  bed  as  if  a  scorpion  had 
stung  him.  Was  it  a  scorpion  ?  What  was  it  ? 

"That  fellow  has  carried  off  those  papers  in  the 
breast-pocket  of  my  coat !" 


CHAPTEK    IY. 

GAMMON. 

THE  newspapers  of  the  following  day  had  a  genu- 
ine sensation  article.  It  was  the  real  thing,  and  no 
mistake.  Wilson,  the  desperate  and  notorious  for- 
ger, had  escaped  from  the  Tombs.  And  in  such  a 
bold,  audacious,  unprecedented,  scandalous,  infa- 
mous, outrageous,  awful,  terrible  and  incredible 
manner,  the  editors  really  wanted  words  to  give 
adequate  utterance  to  their  horror.  No  man's  life 
was  safe.  The  temple  of  Justice  was  profaned  by  the 
rude  hand  and  the  strong  arm. 

One  of  our  richest,  noblest,  most  exemplary,  and 
most  pious  citizens  was  stricken  down  at  the  very 
portals  of  the  temple.  It  was  time  for  the  citizens 
to  arise  in  their  might,  in  the  plenitude  and  the 
majesty  of  their  power.  Otherwise,  our  charter  was 
nought.  Our  freedom  was  a  fiction.  Our  character 
as  a  sovereign  and  an  empire  city  was  blown  to  the 
four  winds. 

Let  not  cavillers  turn  up  their  noses  at  the  four 
winds.  Let  not  critics  derisively  ask  what  are  the 
four  winds  ?  There  might  be  other  winds.  No  edi- 
tor would  presume,  officially,  to  deny  that.  For 
example,  there  is  the  wind  that  blows  nobody  any 
good ;  that,  clearly,  is  not  one  of  the  four.  Then, 
there  is  the  wind  that  people  raise  when  they  are 
short  of  funds ;  that,  too,  is  none  of  the  four.  Then, 

40 


JOHN    DOE   AND   RICIIAKD   EOE.  41 

there  are  head  winds,  and  fair  winds;  Boreas  and 
zephyrs,  and  the  wind  that  blows  where  it  listeth. 
But,  enough  said  about  winds.  No  editor  is  going 
to  be  cornered  on  winds. 

On  the  contrary,  here  is  Richard  Roe,  banker  and 
church  member ;  a  man  whom  all  delight  to  honor ; 
one  of  our  oldest  subscribers,  too ;  a  man  all  heart, 
all  benevolence,  all  goodness ;  who  has  done  more 
for  our  noble  city  than  any  other  man  (excepting, 
indeed,  those  who  have  done  more  than  he) — this 
man,  this  friend  to  the  poor,  this  pride  of  the  rich, 
while  actually  sacrificing  his  duty  to  his  family,  and 
missing  the  cars,  in  order  to  speak  a  word  of  com- 
fort to  that  fiend  in  human  form,  that  robber  of  the 
widow  and  the  fatherless,  that  vile  forger,  Wilson — 
was,  by  that  same  inconceivable  villain,  brutally 
assassinated  in  his,  the  prisoner's,  own  cell,  while  the 
good  Roe  was  ministering  unto  him.  Not,  perhaps, 
quite  assassinated,  however.  As  the  poet  hath  it, 
"  not  yet  quite  dead,"  not  actually  past  the  dread 
portal ;  but  so  near,  that  there  was  no  fun  in  it. 

The  circumstances  are  substantially  as  follows. 
Mr.  Roe  called  on  the  prisoner,  a  little  before  three 
o'clock,  yesterday  afternoon.  Scarcely  was  he  seated 
in  the  prisoner's  cell,  when  he  was  struck  in  the  fore- 
head with  a  heavy  iron  bar,  which  bar  has  not  yet 
been  discovered.  The  blow  was  evidently  intended 
to  be  fatal.  Probably,  its  force  was  broken  by  Mr. 
Roe's  hat ;  which,  no  doubt,  was  providentially  on 
his  head.  But,  not  satisfied  with  that,  this  fiend  in 
human  form  had  p:ovided  himself  with  a  vial  of 
chloroform,  and  that  fell  and  fatal  poison  was  added 
to  the  murderous  bar.  Fortunately,  respiration 
having  been  temporarily  suspended  by  the  iron 


4:2  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

blow,  the  poison  was  not  inhaled,  and  the  noble  Roe 
is  not  dead,  though  his  murderer  has  escaped. 

While  the  illustrious  victim  of  this  fiend  in  human 
form  lay  senseless,  Wilson  stripped  liimself,  stripped 
Mr.  Roe,  and  arrayed  himself  in  Mr.  Roe's  gar- 
ments ;  and  thus — literally,  a  wolf  in  sheep's  cloth- 
ing— he  fiercely  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  turnkey, 
ready  no  doubt,  to  sacrifice  him  also,  had  the  man 
imprudently  recognized  the  monster  in  disguise. 
The  turnkey,  however,  did  not  recognize  him ;  but 
suffered  him  to  pass  as  the  personification  of  all  the 
social  virtues,  which  unfortunately  he  but  too  well 
represented. 

When  the  hour  arrived  for  dispensing  the  frugal 
meal  known  as  the  prisoners'  supper,  the  turnkey 
visited  the  cell  and  found  the  supposed  prisoner 
asleep.  He  made  no  effort  to  awake  him,  but  placed 
the  frugal  meal  on  a  bench,  leaving  the  supposed 
Wilson  to  digest  it  at  his  leisure. 

About  four  o'clock  this  morning,  a  disturbance 
and  cry  for  help  were  heard  issuing  from  Number 
Thirteen.  The  guard  was  mustered,  the  door  was 
opened,  the  torches  flung  their  flickering  light  along 
the  frowning  walls,  and  Number  Thirteen  became 
illuminated.  There,  in  the  precise  condition  in 
which  he  was  born,  stood  Richard  Roe,  ghastly  with 
wounds,  weltering  in  blood,  piteously  inquiring 
where  he  was,  and  how  he  came  there  ?  At  first, 
the  officials  of  the  gloomy  prison  did  not  appreciate 
the  pertinency  of  the  questions — for  it  is  to  be  ob- 
served that,  of  all  recognizable  animals,  a  man  stark 
naked  is  among  the  last.  And  for  a  prisoner  who 
had  been  rusticating  in  Number  Thirteen  for  some 
months,  to  inquire  where  he  was  and  how  he  camt 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICIIAED   KOE.  43 

there,  did  certainly,  on  the  face  of  the  thing,  seem 
to  be  cutting  it  fat. 

Naturally,  therefore,  the  opening  reply  to  these 
questions  was  one  of  those  characteristic  and  collo- 
quial banters,  common  enough  as  between  prisoners 
and  their  keepers,  but  not  exactly  adapted  to  our 
columns.  We  never  soil  our  paper  with  that  sort  of 
thing. 

"  But,"  answered  the  unfortunate  Mr.  Roe,  in  reply 
to  this  brutal  profanity,  which  nothing  could  induce 
us  to  put  in  type,  "  I  am  not  the  prisoner  Wilson  ;  I 
don't  belong  here ;  I  am  Richard  Roe,  banker  and 
church  member ;  I  called  here  yesterday  afternoon 
to  see  Wilson ;  Bill,  there,  let  me  in ;  and  I  was  at- 
tacked and  robbed — don't  you  see  my  face  and  my 
very  blood  ?  and  don't  you  smell  chloroform  ? — there 
it  is !  that's  the  very  vial  itself." 

Not  to  prolong  these  painful  details,  the  truth, 
which  is  always  mighty,  and  always  prevails,  slowly 
but  distinctly  came  out. 

A  medley  of  clothes,  just  sufficient  to  enable  Mr. 
Roe  to  be  taken  home  in  a  carriage,  was  provided 
by  the  keeper  of  the  prison ;  and  just  as  our  paper  is 
going  to  press,  we  learn  that  Mr.  Roe's  physician 
considers  the  patient  out  of  danger,  though  terribly 
shocked  and  weakened  by  the  frightful  ordeal  he  has 
passed. 

It  seems  that  Mr.  Roe  had  left  his  office  in  Wall- 
street  for  the  Hudson  River  train  in  Thirtieth-street, 
to  join  his  interesting  family  at  his  country  mansion 
on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  and  stopped  on  his 
way  for  a  few  minutes'  interview  with  Wilson,  who 
was  formerly  a  scholar  in  Mr.  Roe's  Sunday-school 
class,  and  more  recently  a  clerk  in  Mr.  Roe's  office. 


44  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHAED   KOE. 

The  result  of  his  benevolent  mission  is  before  our 
readers. 

Large  rewards  will  doubtless  be  offered  for  the 
apprehension  of  "Wilson ;  though  we  hear  that  Mr. 
Roe,  with  a  kind-heartedness  that  will  surprise  no 
one  who  has  the  privilege  of  his  acquaintance,  has 
begged  that  no  such  step  may  be  taken  on  his  ac- 
count. May  Richard  Roe  soon  find  that  rest,  that 
calm,  that  quiet,  that  recuperation,  in  the  bosom  of 
his  family,  on  the  banks  of  the  noble  Hudson,  which 
his  life  and  conversation,  his  character  and  attributes, 
his  wealth  and  worth  entitle*  him  to  enjoy !  And 
may  that  fiend  in  human  form,  who  aimed  this  ter- 
rific bomb-shell  at  the  peace  of  that  family  and 
the  welfare  of  that  noble  man,  experience  the  tor- 
tures of  the  doom  he  so  richly  merits ! 


The  foregoing,  without  being  precisely  verbatim 
what  the  newspapers  had  to  say  on  this  interesting 
occasion,  is  near  enough  to  literal  correctness  for  all 
practical  purposes. 

Cynics  have  remarked,  when  a  man  of  some  note 
but  questionable  merit  departed  this  life,  that  dying 
was  the  best  thing  that  man  ever  did ;  inasmuch  as, 
but  for  his  death,  the  world  would  never  have  known 
a  tithe  of  his  good  qualities.  The  meaning  of  which 
cynical  remark  probably  is,  that  the  inevitable  obitu- 
ary brought  out  the  unsuspected  secret. 

There  is  a  perpetual  strife  between  newspaper  edi- 
tors in  favor  of  deceased  millionaires,  which  always 
ends  in  a  printed  catalogue  of  virtyes  that  gratifies 
surviving  mourners,  amuses  surviving  acquaintances. 


JOHN   DOE  AND    EICHAED   BOB.  45 

and  would  unutterably  astonish,  the  unconscious 
subject,  could  he  but  step  back  from  the  grave  to 
read  it. 

The  case  of  Richard  Roe  is  not  quite  a  case  in 
point,  because  Richard  Roe  was  not  quite  killed. 
But  what  the  newspapers  did,  enables  one  to  infer 
what,  under  other  circumstances,  they  might  have 
done. 

Fortunately,  or  unfortunately,  for  Richard  Roe, 
the  summer  is  not  over,  and  many  of  the  readers  of 
newspapers  are  out  of  town. 


CIIAPTEK  Y. 

DOCTORS. 

IF  there  is  one  Americanism  that  clearly  predomi- 
nates over  all  other  Americanisms,  that  one  is  a 
fondness  for  titles. 

Titles  of  nobility,  we  have  not.  Lords,  earls, 
dukes,  barons,  etc.,  are  not  to  be  found  in  our  voca- 
bulary. But  we  have  military  and  naval  titles  in 
abundance.  We  have  also  generals,  colonels,  majors, 
captains,  lieutenants,  sergeants  and  corporals  of  our 
militia  organization.  We  have,  too,  captains  of 
ships,  and  all  vessels  ;  captains  of  police,  of  clubs,  of 
newsboy-squads.  We  have,  besides,  governors  and 
lieutenant-governors  of  States;  judges  of  all  man- 
ner of  courts;  attorney-generals,  district-attorneys, 
mayors,  aldermen,  sheriffs ;  and  of  the  interminable 
catalogue,  how  brief  soever  may  be  the  tenure  of 
office,  the  title  never  dies  till  the  man  does. 

But  this  mass  of  titles  has  one  merit :  each,  for  the 
time  being,  means  something.  It  means  that  the 
individual  holding  it  is,  or  was,  whatever  his  title 
indicates ;  and,  excepting  "  captain,"  the  indication 
is  intelligible  to  the  popular  understanding.  But  the 
good  people  have  managed  to  mystify  one  title  to  an 
extent  that  renders  it  unintelligible,  if  not  ridiculous  : 
namely,  the  title  of  doctor. 

The  "doctor"  of  whom  we  think  first  when  the 
word  is  pronounced,  and  of  whom  we  think  most 

46 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  47 

when  we  want  a  doctor,  is  the  doctor  of  medicine. 
He  is  the  doctor,  par  excellence ;  the  doctor,  proper; 
the  traditionary  proprietor  of  the  title ;  the  holder 
of  it  by  right  of  the  strongest ;  indeed,  the  only  one 
who  can  claim  the  title  by  virtue  of  fee  simple.  In 
his  case  the  title  is  convenient,  descriptive,  indispen- 
sable. It  announces  a  fact — that  the  holder  is  a 
practitioner  of  the  healing  art.  There  is  nothing 
ostentatious  in  it;  no  more  than  in  "cobbler"  ap- 
pended to  Joseph  Crispin,  or  "  weaver"  to  Nicholas 
Bottom. 

But  there  are  two  other  classes  of  men  who  seek, 
or  receive  the  title  of  doctor  merely  as  a  title,  with- 
out any  definite  signification  whatever.  Can  any 
human  being  tell  what  a  LL.D.  or  a  D.D.  is  f  Can 
any  one  recite  the  qualifications,  the  prerogatives, 
the  duties,  of  a  Doctor  of  Laws?  Can  any  one  tell 
what  are  the  functions,  or  professional  characteristics 
of  a  Doctor  of  Divinity — apart  from  the  specialties 
of  the  "  reverend "  already  conceded  to  him  by  the 
same  usage  that  gives  "  doctor  "  to  the  physician  ? 

Certain  colleges  and  universities  annually  amuse 
themselves  and  the  public  by  certifying  that  John 
Brown,  person,  or  John  Brown,  parson,  is  something, 
or  has  done  something  which  entitles  him  to  be  called 
Doctor — or,  nicknamed  Doctor — but  what  that  some- 

•  • 

thing  is,  no  one  among  all  these  institutions  of  learn- 
ing has  ever  been  able  to  say !  There  is,  however, 
one  thing  to  be  said  in  extenuation  of  the  LL.D. 
folly :  its  display  is  not  always  and  necessarily  incon- 
sistent with  the  profession  of  its  owner.  Its  assump- 
tion does  not  as  a  matter  of  course  convict  him  of 
inconsistency. 

But  no  such  extenuation  can  be  urged  for  the 


4:0  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   KOE. 

Doctors  of  Divinity.  In  every  possible  aspect,  D.D. 
is  a  monstrosity.  It  is  meaningless,  because  it  con- 
veys no  information  ;  superfluous,  because  all  clergy- 
men are  "  the  reverend  "  ex  officio  ;  and  ostentatious, 
because  it  is  a  vainglorious  "  distinction  without  a 
difference." 

Clergymen  are  our  teachers;  and,  in  that  sense, 
they  are  all  "doctors"  philologically — doceo,  docere, 
docui,  doctum ;  but  their  teaching  is,  and  their 
example  should  be,  patience,  meekness,  humility. 
They  tell  us  of  the  vanity  of  the  world,  of  the  short- 
ness of  life,  and  of  the  unspeakable  importance  of 
eternity.  They  would  have  us  count  all  things  but 
loss,  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ. 
Yet,  nevertheless,  if  one  looks  at  the  number  of 
clergymen  who  "attain"  D.D.,  at  their  age  when 
they  attain  it,  and  at  their  qualifications  either  be- 
fore or  after  they  have  attained  it;  one  cannot  but' 
be  struck  at  its  miserable  cheapness  and  insignifi- 
cance ;  while,  also,  one  cannot  but  fancy  that, 
corruptible  as  is  the  crown,  it  is  a  very  prominent 
object  in  a  clergyman's  race. 

No  doubt,  many  institutions  thrust  this  honor  (?) 
unsought-  on  clergymen  who  have  a  well-earned 
reputation  :  but  it  is  out  of  the  question  to  suppose 
that  a  large  number  of  D.D.  diplomas  are  not  pain- 
fully and  laboriously  sought  by  those  who  obtain 
them. 

What  a  sad  spectacle  it  is,  in  any  printed  list  of 
clergymen,  to  see  the  lines  sprinkled  with  D.D.'s  as 
if  they  had  been  thrown  out  of  a  pepper-box !  this 
good  man  with  the  cockade,  and  that  perhaps  better 
man  without  it.  For,  considering  how  the  D.D.'s 
are  obtained,  and  who  gets  them,  it  is  superfluous  to 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  49 

suppose  that  they  indicate  any  superiority  over  those 
who  do  not  get  them  : 

— All  of  which,  by  way  of  remark. 

It  may  safely  be  presumed  that  Richard  Roe's 
clergyman  was  a  D.D.  Richard  Roe  knew  the  value 
of  a  title.  He  could  not  fructify  under  the  exhorta- 
tions of  anything  less  than  a  Doctor  of  Divinity.  If 
Whitefield  or  Robert  Hall  were  preaching  regularly 
in  Richard's  neighborhood,  Doctor  Perkins  would 
still  have  been  the  man  for  Richard  Roe's  money. 
Necessarily,  therefore,  Doctor  Perkins  was  Richard 
Roe's  pastor. 

Doctor  Perkins  had  early  learned  that,  in  the  bio- 
graphical world,  there  are  very  few  royal  roads :  none 
to  high  art;  none  to  true  fame;  none,  except  by 
accident,  to  wealth ;  one,  only,  to  happiness ;  several 
to  notoriety.  "  Notoriety,"  he  reasoned,  "  is  not  the 
genuine  article ;  but  it  looks  well  in  the  newspapers, 
it  passes  current  with  the  multitude,  one  can  make 
sure  of  getting  it — the  other  thing  is  up-hill  work : 
here  goes  for  notoriety !" 

Once,  somewhere,  a  notion  was  set  on  foot,  that  the 
primary  duty  of  a  clergyman  was  to  do  good  to  men 
— meaning  men,  generally.  Perkins  took  a  different 
view  of  the  case,  and  strove  for  good  to  man  indi- 
vidually— meaning  one  man;  to  wit,  number  one. 
And  as  he  thus  had  a  single  object,  he  wisely  resolved 
to  limit  his  warfare  to  a  single  foe.  Sin  in  the  aggre- 
gate was  a  many-headed  monster — he  must  be  fought 
without  ceasing:  a  man  who  undertook  that  must 
think  more  highly  of  his  powers  than  the  timid  Per- 
kins presumed  to  do.  His  humble  abilities  wouldn't 
venture  to  encounter  anything  more  than  the  slavery 
question.  No  doubt,  his  congregation  were  sinful 

3 


50  JOHN   DOE   AND   BICHAKD   KOE. 

men  and  women — else,  why  were  they  there  to  lis- 
ten? and  why  was  he  there  to  teach?  No  doubt, 
every  individual  of  his  flock  was  chargeable  with  a 
violation  of  some  one  of  the  precepts  of  the  Decalogue, 
including  always  the  supplementary  precept  of  love 
to  God  and  our  neighbor.  But  Perkins  couldn't  do 
everything.  He  had  always  thought  it  better  to  do 
one  thing  well,  than  to  deal  superficially  with  many 
things.  Not  only  so,  that  other  sort  of  thing  was  the 
beaten  track,  and  impressions  [sensations]  were  not 
easily  produced  on  beaten  tracks.  He  would  not 
dictate  to  his  professional  brethren.  The  field  is  the 
world.  There  is  room  for  all.  "  Choose  ye,"  he  said 
to  them,  in  imagination,  "  choose  ye  whom  ye  will 
assail :  but  as  for  me  and  my  house,  we  will  assail 
slavery,  man-stealing,  the  chain  and  the  lash." 

It  mattered  little  that  the  object  of  Perkins's  artil- 
lery was  a  long  way  off.  He  would  rifle  his  guns, 
he  would  elongate  them,  he  would  load  them  to  the 
muzzle.  And  what  powder  failed  to  accomplish, 
faith  should  complete.  Nobody  had  ever  told  him 
so,  but  he  felt  it  in  his  bones  that  he  was  the  right 
man  for  this  sort  of  work.  And  he  undertook  it. 
And  he  did  it.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  surprised 
to  find  how  easily  he  did  it.  He  disproved,  he  refut- 
ed, he  overthrew,  he_  abolished,  he  literally  annihi- 
lated the  "  infernal  Institution."  He  did  this  thor- 
oughly ;  he  did  this  repeatedly ;  he  did  this  perpet- 
.ually.  And  it  may  be  presumed  that  his  congrega- 
tion did  as  well  as  could  be  expected,  under  the 
circumstances.  Like  causes  produce  like  effects. 
Mahomet  was  a  man  of  one  idea :  Perkins  was  a 
man  of  one  idea.  Perkins  was  Parkins,  and  Richard 
Roe  was  one  of  his  Profits. 


JOHN   DOE   AND    RICHAKD   ROE.  51 

Public  anxiety  had  been  greatly  relieved  by  the 
successive  newspaper  bulletins  which,  on  the  day 
following  the  assassination,  announced  the  gradual 
but  doubtful  escape  of  Richard  Roe  from  death. 
The  case  did  not  seem  to  be  quite  clear.  There  was 
somewhat  of  mystification  about  it.  But  the  high 
character  and  known  wealth  of  the  good  banker 
caused  all  doubts  to  work  together  for  his  ben- 
efit. 

The  only  man  who  couldn't  be  wholly  deceived  in 
the  premises  was  doctor  Jenkins.  Being  the  family 
physician  of  Roe,  he  called  without  waiting  to  be 
sent  for,  and  of  course  saw  that  "  nothing  was  the 
matter  "  with  his  patient.  Thus,  at  the  outset,  Rich- 
ard found  that  the  way  of  transgressors  is  hard :  for 
while  there  was  seemingly  a  necessity  for  making 
some  sort  of  a  confidant  of  his  doctor,  he  perceived 
that  making  a  confidant  of  a  man  without  telling 
him  anything,  is  difficult.  On  the  one  hand,  letting 
the  doctor  into  the  true  state  of  the  case,  was  out  of 
the  question  ;  on  the  other  hand,  limited  confidences 
are  eminently  risky.  He  therefore  made  what  he 
considered  "  the  best  of  it."  He  extemporized  a 
rambling  and  inconsistent  story,  the  only  effect  of 
which  was,  to  show  the  doctor  that  Roe  was  endea- 
voring to  deceive  him  ;  but  as  the  doctor  was  under 
a  temporary  pecuniary  obligation  to  the  banker,  it 
was  not  his  cue  to  betray  his  incredulity,  and  he  pre- 
tended to  swallow  Roe's  story  as  he  sometimes  pre- 
tended to  swallow  his  own  pills.  He  did  it,  too,  with 
so  good  a  grace  that  the  interview  terminated  to 
Roe's  entire  satisfaction.  Roe  had  obviously  "  done  " 
the  doctor,  brown. 

The  other  doctor,  the  D.D.,  was  much  more  easily 


52  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

"  done."  In  fact,  he  "  did  "  himself.  He  had  been 
out  of  town  (Doctor  Perkins  had)  for  some  weeks  pre- 
viously ;  he  had  read  the  newspapers  ;  he  returned  ; 
he  flew  to  Roe's  relief. 

"  My  dear  friend  and  brother !"  he  exclaimed,  as 
he  rushed  into  the  parlor  and  caught  his  friend  and 
brother  in  his  arms,  "  how  is  all  with  you  ?  I  have 
just  returned  from  Wisconsin." 

"  Doctor !  Doctor !  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you," 
cried  Roe,  in  the  same  overflowing  tone. 

Absence,  and  calamity  in  absence,  operate  on  the 
lachrymal  nerves  when  the  separated  and  the  afflict- 
ed are  brought  together,  as  uniformly  as  mustard  or 
horse-radish.  It  was  quite  affecting ! 

"  I  have  seen  the  newspapers,"  said  the  Doctor. 
"  I  have  thought  of  you :  I  have  remembered  you, 
my  brother." 

"  Ah,  Doctor  !"  ejaculated  Roe. 

"  True,  true !  I  see  it,  I  feel  it,"  rejoined  his  com- 
forter. 

"  A  night  in  prison,  Doctor !"  murmured  Roe, 
with  closed  yet  suffused  eyes. 

"  Remember  Paul  and  Silas,  my  brother,"  an- 
swered the  Doctor  in  perfectly  good  faith.  But  Roe 
had  an  underlying  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  and  in 
spite  of  himself  he  smiled — upper  lip  and  all.  He 
was  in  trouble,  but  not  the  kind  of  trouble  the  good 
Doctor  supposed.  A  man  in  earnest,  encountering  a 
man  playing  a  part,  jostles  his  friend  at  every  turn 
without  knowing  it.  There  is  about  as  much  con- 
curd  between  them,  as  between  two  voices  simultane- 
ously singing  different  airs. 

Clearly,  the  only  way  out  of  this  corner  was  a 
change  of  the  subject. 


JOHN   DOE   AtfD   KICHAKD   EOE.  53 

"  Doctor,"  said  Roe,  "  my  nerves  are  so  shattered, 
that  we  must  talk  of  something  else." 

Nothing  could  have  suited  the  Doctor  better.  He 
was  all  things  to  all  men.  And  the  thing  really 
uppermost  in  his  own  mind,  was  the  result  of  a  con- 
troversy between  himself  and  some  conscientious 
members  of  his  congregation  ;  which  controversy,  he 
had  absented  himself  purposely  to  avoid,  leaving  Roe 
and  his  party  to  carry  on  the  war. 

"  How  are  our  refractory  members  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Pretty  well  under,"  said  Roe  ;  "  our  young  vol- 
unteers outflanked  them  handsomely." 

"  That  was  a  nice  bit  of  strategy,"  the  Doctor 
replied,  with  a  sly  wink.  "  I  hope  no  one  suspects 
me  of  having  had  any  agency  in  it  ?" 

"  No  one,"  said  Roe,  reciprocating  the  wink,  "  but 
the  friend  who  knows  that  you  were  substantially  the 
sole  agent." 

"  Hush  !"  cried  the  Doctor ;  "  walls  have  ears.  I 
know,  my  dear  Roe,"  he  continued,  relapsing  into 
the  lachrymose  tone  with  which  he  commenced  the 
interview — for,  now,  he  wished  to  change  the  sub- 
ject— "  I  know  that  your  thoughts  are  running  on 
things  personal  and  painful  to  yourself,  and  you 
needed  a  word  to  break  the  current." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  answered  Roe.  "  '  As  iron 
sharpeneth  iron,  so  the  face  of  a  man  his  friend.' 
This  interlude  has  done  me  a  world  of  good.  You'll 
stay  to  dine  ?  You  must,"  he  added,  peremptorily, 
as  the  Doctor  seemed  to  hesitate ;  "  I'm  all  alone, 
and  there's  some  of  that  blue  seal  on  the  ice." 

"  Ha !  ha !  Roe,  you  have  such  a  way  with  you  1" 
rejoined  the  Doctor,  stretching  himself  on  a  sofa. 

"  Doctor,"  said  Roe,  stretching  himself  on  another 


54  JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHARD    ROE. 

sofa,  "  you  have  now  been  in  person  over  that  glo- 
rious country,  the  mighty  west,  where  the  fields  are 
white  to  the  harvest.  "What  is  their  true  condition  ?" 

"  Superb  !  unrivalled  !  magnificent  I"  replied  Per- 
kins, enthusiastically  piling  up  the  epithets,  as  he 
called  to  mind  what  he  had  seen  :  "  fields  stretching 
out  to  the  horizon,  and  sixty  bushels  to  the  acre 
reckoned  as  but  half  a  crop." 

Roe  smiled  benignantly  on  his  ardent  and  ani- 
mated friend,  who  in  the  excitement  of  recalling 
nature's  wonders,  had  for  a  momentjforgotten  nature's 
God.  But  Roe  could  make  allowances.  He  had 
himself  been  subject  to  worldly  weaknesses. 

"  I  referred,  my  dear,  good  friend,"  said  he,  "  to 
the  harvest  of  souls.  That  is  the  great  reaping  field ; 
and  we,  who  have  forsaken  all  for  Christ,  must  not 
be  unmindful  of  it." 

The  simple-hearted  Doctor  sank  under  the  gentle 
rebuke  of  the  sublimely  devotional  Roe.  Bat  he 
soon  rose  to  the  surface. 

"  Alas !"  said  he,  "  the  harvest  is  plenty,  but  the 
laborers  are  few  :  and,  meantime,  the  enemy  is  sow- 
ing tares."  And  he  was  proceeding  to  apologize  for 
being  so  worldly-minded  in  Roe's  presence  as,  at 
first,  to  mistake  spiritual  fields  for  wheat  fields ;  but 
the  banker  magnanimously  assured  him  that  there 
was  no  harm  done. 

By  way  of  another  change  of  subject,  and  to  reas- 
sure the  good  Doctor,  Roe  went  on  to  speak  of  their 
fellow-laborer  in  the  church,  Henry  Williamson. 

"  Williamson,"  said  Roe,  "  is  truly  a  brand  plucked 
from  the  burning.  He  tarried  without  till  the 
eleventh  hour,  but  the  Lord  knows  His  own  time. 
Henry  will  be  a  burning  and  a  shining  light  in  our 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHABD   ROE.  55 

midst.  He  was  telling  me  last  Sabbath  eve,  what  a 
glimpse  he  had  of  the  promised  land,  in  his  private 
devotions.  He  was  in  his  closet.  The  heavens 
seemed  open  to  him,  and  the  heaven  of  heavens  was 
not  hid  from  his  view.  And  he  thinks  that  he 
attained  that  sublime  experience  by  fasting.  I  was 
able  to  corroborate  that  opinion.  And  as  my  heart 
warmed  toward  him,  I  related  my  own  experience : 
for  I,  too,  had  fasted,  and  had  a  vision.  It  does  not 
become  me  to  say  so — and  I  wouldn't  say  it  to  Henry 
— but  my  vision  exceeded  his,  both  in  intensity  and 
duration.  But,  then,  Henry  is  a  new  beginner." 

The  good  Doctor  was  too  much  devoted  to  the 
"  infernal  Institution,"  to  care  much  about  visions  : 
and  it  was  a  great  relief  to  him,  that  Philip  here 
abruptly  announced  the  dinner. 


CHAPTEK   VI. 

JOHN  DOE. 

JOHN  DOE  was  a  bachelor.  He  lived  in  a  comfort- 
able house.  His  family  consisted  of  an  unmarried 
sister,  an  unmarried  niece,  himself  and  the  servants. 
His  sister's  name  was  Susan  Doe.  His  niece's  name 
was  Jane  Doe.  His  servants'  names  need  not  be 
mentioned,  because  servants  are  always  changing 
places.  The  John  of  to-day  is  Peter  to-morrow ;  and 
so  on  for  the  entire  set.  Additionally  to  these  indi- 
viduals, there  was  aunt  Smith,  a  bedridden  relative 
up-stairs,  but  not  connected  with  this  history  except 
as  an  invisible  supernumerary. 

The  old-fashioned,  recently  (in  part)  repudiated  and 
always  calumniated  meal — tea — was  still  one  of  the 
institutions  in  John  Doe's  family.  The  fixed  hour  for 
it,  was  half-past  seven  on  week-days  and  half-past  six 
on  Sundays.  Breakfast  is  a  meal  of  bustling  prepa- 
ration. Dinner  is  a  serious  meal ;  a  meal  of  deter- 
mined consummation.  Tea  is  a  recreation,  replete 
with  reminiscences.  It  is  a  "  meal,"  however,  only 
in  conventional  terms.  People  are  expected  to  talk 
at  a  tea-table. 

"  Jane,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Doe  to  his  niece, 
"  will  you  hand  that  cup  to  your  aunt  ?  Peter  has 
another  bad  turn  to-day,  and  we  must  be  our  own 

waiters." 

H 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   KOE.  57 

"I  think,"  rejoined  Miss  Susan  Doe,  "that  you 
will  soon  come  to  my  conclusion  about  Peter — that 
his  '  turns'  should  rather  be  called  '  crooks.' " 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?"  inquired  her  brother. 

"  Crooks  of  the  elbow,"  replied  Miss  Doe  ;  "  you 
are  unwilling  to  believe  any  harm  of  Peter ;  but  I 
tell  you,  he  drinks.  What  about  the  tea,  John  ?" 

"  Only  to  fill  the  cup,"  said  Mr.  Doe  ;  "  you  have 
sweetened  it  on  plantation  principles ;  or,  as  our 
friend  Roe  would  say,  on  Bottom  Principles." 

"  For  goodness'  sake,  don't  quote  Richard  Roe," 
said  the  sister ;  "  I  am  sick  of  seeing  that  fellow's 
name  in  the  newspapers.  Was  there  anything  more 
about  him  to-night,  Jane  ?" 

"  I  believe  not,  aunt,"  Jane  replied ;  "  if  there  was 
anything,  I  overlooked  it." 

"  No  new  developments,  eh  ?"  continued  Miss  Doe. 
"  Do  you  know,  John,  I  believe  that  whole  thing  is  a 
humbug  2" 

"  Not  the  escape  of  Wilson,  surely,"  said  Mr.  Doe. 

"  Well — no,"  answered  his  sister  ;  "  I  suppose  we 
must  admit  that.  But  the  iron  bar  that  never  was 
found,  and  the  chloroform,  and  the  clothes,  and  all 
that.  Now,  candidly,  John  ?" 

"  I  hardly  know  what  to  think,"  replied  her 
brother.  "  It  certainly  is  a  very  strange  story.  If  I 
could  imagine  any  motive  on  the  part  of  Roe  to  favor 
Wilson's  escape — but  that  is  impossible." 

"  Impossible  is  a  strong  word,"  said  Miss  Doe. 
"Napoleon  said  it  was  not  French.  I  remember 
when  Roe's  wife  and  I  were  at  school,  we  agreed  to 
be  friends  forever ;  but  the  word,  in  Napoleon's  sense, 
proved  not  to  be  English." 

3* 


58  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

"  She  died,  you  know,"  said  her  brother. 

"  True,"  his  sister  rejoined,  "  but  she  outlived  our 
friendship." 

"  By  implication,  then,"  Mr.  Doe  continued,  "  you 
think  Hoe  might  have  had  a  motive  ?  Can  you  sug- 
gest one  ?" 

"  No,"  said  the  lady ;  "  that's  beyond  my  ability 
You,  who  are  conversant  with  business  relations  and 
details,  and  know  quite  enough,  I  should  say,  of  Roe : 
you  might  conjecture  a  motive.  I'll  warrant,  Roe 
would  conjecture  one,  if  you  and  he  could  change 
places." 

"  The  millstone  through  which  he  couldn't  squint, 
must  be  a  solid  one,  I  grant  you,"  said  Mr.  Doe ; 
"  and  the  reputation  in  which  he  couldn't  find,  or 
make,  a  flaw,  if  he  once  set  resolutely  about  it,  must 
be  a  sound  one.  Roe  ought  to  have  been  a  lawyer." 

"  Roe  a  lawyer !"  echoed  the  lady,,  with  infinite 
scorn.  "  How  can  you  couple  his  pettifogging  mind 
with  a  profession  in  which  our  ancestors  won  so  proud 
a  reputation  ?  An  attorney's  jackal,  he  might  be :  a 
lawyer,  never !  On  my  word,  I  believe  the  fellow  is 
complicated  in  this  matter  somehow.  Study  it  out 
for  me,  John." 

"  For  that  matter,"  answered  her  brother,  "  not 
for  you  only,  but  for  Elizabeth,  and  myself,  and  all  of 
us,  if  there's  anything  to  be  studied  out,  I  would  go 
to  the  bottom  of  it  with  all  my  heart." 

"  Is  that  confounded  case  never  to  be  tried  ?"  said 
Miss  Doe. 

"  I  really  don't  know,"  replied  Mr.  Doe.  "  Roe 
shows  his  pettifogging  cleverness  there,  if  in  nothing 
else.  He  has  got  that  case  put  off  more  than  twenty 
times.  And  I  told  Traverse,  to-day,  that,  in  view  of 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAKD   ROE.  59 

that  experience,  I  should  say  no  man  ever  need  be 
brought  to  a  trial  in  New  York,  unless  he  chooses  to 
be.  Study  out  Richard  Roe,  do  you  say  ?"  he  con- 
tinued ;  "  I  wish  I  could,  that's  all !" 

"  What's  that,  Margaret  ?"  said  Miss  Doe  to  a  ser- 
vant who  now  entered  the  room. 

"  The  medicine  for  Mrs.  Smith,  ma'am,"  replied  the 
girl,  holding  out  a  vial. 

"  Did  Tom  bring  it,  Margaret  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Doe. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  girl,  "  and  he  is  waiting  to 
know  if  you  would  wish  to  see  him." 

"  I  do  wish  to  see  him,"  said  Mr.  Doe.     "  Tell  him 
to  wait  in  the  parlor,  Margaret." 

Tom  commenced  business  early  in  life  and  on  a 
small  scale.  He  was  trained  to  the  useful  profession 
of  begging ;  and  as  Mr.  Doe's  house  was  in  his  dis- 
trict, he  made  daily  calls  there  for  cold  victuals.  He 
was  a  bright,  intelligent  lad,  and  soon  attracted  the 
notice  and  favor  of  the  servants,  who  used  to  reserve 
the  best  things  for  "  little  Tommy."  One  day,  Mr. 
Doe  himself,  being  in  the  kitchen  to  look  after  the 
Croton  pipes,  happened  to  see  him.  He  was  pleased 
with  the  boy's  appearance,  and  especially  pleased 
with  his  answers  to  some  questions.  He  afterward 
called  on  the  boy's  mother,  and  the  result  was  that 
he  obtained  employment  for  Tom  in  Mr.  Scalpel's 
apothecary's  shop,  No.  — ,  Bowery.  Mr.  Scalpel 
needed  a  boy  for  errands,  to  carry  medicines  as 
ordered,  etc.,  and  he  engaged  Tom  the  more  readily 
xfrom  his  being  recommended  by  a  gentleman  of 
position  and  fortune,  who,  moreover,  had  an  invalid 
relative  at  home  requiring  "any  quantity"  of  doses 
which  he,  Scalpel,  was  now  engaged  to  supply.  1$ 
was  a  satisfactory  arrangement,  all  around. 


60  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

"  "Well,  Tom,  my  lad,  how  are  you  getting  on  ?" 
inquired  Mr.  Doe  of  \\\%  protege. 

"  Quite  pretty  well,  sir,  and  thank  you,  sir," 
answered  Tom. 

«  Plenty  of  work,  now,  Tom  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir." 

"  And  all  well  at  home,  Tom  ?" 

"  Mother's  a  little  poorly,  sir,  since  the  warm 
weather ;  but  Phebe  is  first  rate,  sir." 

"  And  you  like  Mr.  Scalpel  F 

"  Yes,  sir,  he's  very  kind  in  general ;  was  a  little 
hard  on  me,  though,  for  letting  the  gentleman  slip 
with  the  chloroform." 

"  Chloroform  ?    What  about  chloroform,  Tom  ?" 

Tom  related  the  story,  and  added  that  he  missed 
the  gentleman  in  getting  out  of  the  car,  and  on  his 
return  Mr.  Scalpel  gave  him  fits. 

Mr.  Doe,  quickened  in  his  apprehension  by  the  tea- 
table  chat  with  his  sister,  began  to  cogitate. 

"  Who  was  the  gentleman,  Tom  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  Tom  replied.  "  Stranger,  sir. 
Never  seen  him  before." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  him  since  ?" 

"  Once't,  sir,  in  the  evening,  up  hereabouts,  crossing 
Broadway." 

"  What  sort  of  man  is  he  ?" 

"  Tall,  sir,  I  should  say.  Wears  his  whiskers  so  " — • 
showing  with  his  hands. 

«  Dark  whiskers  ?" 

"  Rather  dark,  sir,  and  some  grey." 

"  Did  you  see  him,  that  day,  after  you  got  into  the 
car?" 

"  ISTo,  sir ;  and  that's  what  I  told  Mr.  Scalpel.  But 
he  said  I  was  so'gerin,  and  he  give  me  fits." 


JOHN   DOE   AND  RICHARD   ROE.  61 

"  Tom,  my  boy,  the  next  time  you  see  that  man, 
follow  him  and  find  out  where  he  goes." 

"  But  suppose  I  am  carrying  medicines,  sir  ?" 

"  Never  mind  medicines ;  never  mind  anything. 
Follow  the  man  and  find  where  he  stops.  I'll  see 
Mr.  Scalpel  and  make  you  right  with  him." 

"  Much  obliged  to  you,  sir,  and  I'll  do  it.  And 
the  next  time  you  see  Mr.  Scalpel,  if  you  please,  sir, 
if  you  would  speak  about  that  extra  half  dollar 
a  week  ?  I  think,  sir,  he  has  forgot  about  it." 

"  I'll  remember,  Tom,  and  you  shall  have  the  half 
dollar." 

"  Thank  you  kindly,  sir  ;  and  good  evening,  sir." 

And  Tom  withdrew,  not  a  little  elated  at  the  success 
of  his  visit. 

"  That  sister  of  mine  should  have  been  a  lawyer  !'' 
said  Doe  to  himself. 


Tom  had  repeatedly  called  at  Mr.  Doe's  house 
with  potions  and  plasters  for  aunt  Smith  ;  but  as  yet, 
he  was  unable  to  report  any  discovery  of  the  missing 
gentleman. 

Mr.  Doe  grew  impatient. 

"Tom,"  said  he,  one  evening,  "  do  you  know  where 
Queer-street  is  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  sir,"  answered  Tom,  "  I  carry  parcels 
there." 

"  There,"  rejoined  Mr.  Doe,  "  is  number  713  on  a 
piece  of  paper.  Keep  that  in  your  pocket,  and  when- 
ever you  go  past  that  house,  look  sharp  at  the  door 
and  the  windows ;  and  if  you  see  that  gentleman 
there,  let  me  know." 

On  this  hint,  Tom  made  a  report  rather  more  to 


62  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAKD   ROE. 

the  purpose.  He  had  seen  the  gentleman  twice't. 
His  clothes  was  not  the  same,  but  the  gentleman  was 
the  same,  and  no  mistake. 

"  Stick  a  pin  there  !"  quoth  John  Doe,  to  himself. 

Personal  identification  is  a  nice  point.  Every 
man's  experience  furnishes  instances  of  mistaking  one 
person  for  another.  Many  trials  in  the  courts  have 
become  celebrated  by  the  conflicting  of  evidence  on 
a  question  of  identity ;  and  many  an  innocent  man 
has  paid  a  high  penalty  for  resembling  another  man, 
with  whom  he  had  no  more  to  do  than  the  man  in 
the  moon.  John  Doe  was  aware  of  all  this. 

"  I  must  get  Scalpel  to  identify  this  customer," 
said  he  ;  "  and  yet,  not  in  a  way  to  lead  him  to  sup- 
pose it's  a  matter  of  any  importance.  Thus  far,  he 
merely  blames  Tom  for  negligence,  and  has  no  sus- 
picion of  anything  wrong  in  the  man.  Let  me  see. 
The  church  is  Roe's  fortress.  We'll  attack  him  in 
the  church.  Jones's  pew,  as  I  recollect,  is  at  right 
angles  with  Hoe's  ?  and  the  Jones's  are  out  of  town, 
as  a  matter  of  course." 

Doe  occasionally  called  at.  Scalpel's  shop  to  look 
after  Tom's  condition  and  prospects. 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Scalpel,"  said  he,  when  he  had 
made  the  customary  inquiries,  "  did  you  ever  hear 
Doctor  Perkins  preach  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  returned  the  apothecary,  "  he's  rather 
too  strong  for  my  fancy." 

"  I  have  a  notion  to  hear  him  next  Sunday,"  con- 
tinued Doe  ;  "  And  if  you  would  like  to  go,  just  for 
the  curiosity  of  the  thing,  I  will  find  you  a  seat." 

"  Tou  are  very  kind,  sir,"  replied  the  apothecary, 
rather  flattered  with  the  offer ;  "  I  think  I  will  accept 
your  invitation." 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHAED   ROE.  63 

"  Will  you  call  for  me,  at  my  house,  next  Sunday 
morning,  then  ?"  said  Doe. 

"  Certainly,  sir,  and  much  obliged  to  you,"  an- 
swered Scalpel. 

The  apothecary  presented  himself  accordingly ; 
and,  in  due  time,  he  was  edified  by  one  of  those 
"  peculiar "  sermons  which  do  so  much  good  in 
northern  cities. 

After  the  services  were  over,  Doe  and  Scalpel 
exchanged  opinions  in  the  usual  way. 

"  Do  you  know,"  inquired  Doe,  "  who  that  tall, 
heavy  whiskered  gentleman  is,  who  sat  alone  in  the 
middle  aisle,  near  the  pulpit?" 

"  I  don't  know  his  name,"  answered  the  apothe- 
cary ;  "  but  he  is  the  gentleman  whom  Tom  missed 
in  the  cars  that  day." 

"  Quite  sure  he  is  the  same  man  ?"  pursued  Doe. 

"  I  was  not  sure,"  said  the  apothecary,  "  until  we 
came  out  of  church.  I  then  took  a  better  look  at 
him  ;  and  what's  more,  he  spoke  to  some  ladies,  and 
I  recognized  his  voice." 

"  You  thought  Tom  was  a  little  tricky  in  that  mat- 
ter ?"  said  Doe. 

"  More  or  less,  sir,  I  must  say,"  replied  the  apothe- 
cary. "  The  gentleman  couldn't  keep  watch  of  Tom 
in  the  crowd ;  it  was  Tom's  business  to  watch  him, 
and  follow  him  when  he  got  out  of  the  car.  How- 
ever, it  was  a  lesson  to  the  boy.  He  has  been  very 
particular,  ever  since." 

"  He  couldn't  have  run  off  to  a  theatre  that  even- 
ing ?"  suggested  Doe :  well  knowing  that  the  affair 
did  not  take  place  in  the  evening  ;  but  intending,  by 
his  remark,  to  ascertain  the  apothecary's  recollection 
of  the  hour  when  it  did  take  place. 


64  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   ROE. 

"  By  no  manner  of  means,  sir,"  rejoined  Scalpel : 
"  it  was  not  in  the  evening  at  all,  but  in  the  after- 
noon ;  about  a  quarter  to  three." 

"  In  the  absence  of  corroborating  facts,"  thought 
Doe,  on  his  way  home,  "  this  identification  might 
lack  weight.  But  combine  with  it  the  fact  that  Roe 
called  at  the  Tombs  at  three  o'clock  that  day,  and 
remained  there ;  then  put  that  vial  of  chloroform 
into  the  scale,  and  my  inference  is  that — that — in 
short,  that  my  sister  ought  to  have  been  a  lawyer !" 


CHAPTER  YH. 

JACK     AND     GILL. 

IT  is  as  true  in  real  life  as  in  novels,  that  young 
men  and  young  women  spontaneously  fall  into  those 
ways  and  byways  and  pathways  of  attachment  that 
lead  to  matrimony.  And  real  life  experience  has 
this  substantial  advantage  over  the  experience  of 
romance :  namely,  that  its  personages  manage  to  get 
through  the  byways  and  pathways  without  embarass- 
ing  obstacles.  The  young  people  form  their  attach- 
ments ;  the  old  people  give  their  approval ;  and  the 
first  thing  you  know,  Brown  carries  around  the 
cards. 

The  facility  of  the  thing,  as  compared  with  novel- 
life,  is  really  superlative.  Of  all  the  incidents  of  the 
every-day  world,  getting  married  is  the  most  free 
from  obstacles.  If  it  were  otherwise ;  if  the  candi- 
dates for  matrimony  in  real  life  were  subjected  to  the 
delays,  the  trials,  the  ordeals  with  which  novel- 
writers  surround  their  young  men  and  women — why, 
the  long  and  short  of  the  business  is,  that  nuptial 
ceremonies  would  cease  to  be  performed. 

In  exceptional  cases,  and  for  good  or  bad  reasons, 
the  experience  of  heroes  and  heroines  will  obtrude 
itself  into  every-day  life :  but  the  general  rule  of 
real  life  is  diametrically  opposed  to  the*  rule  of  the 
novelist.  Nor  does  the  difference  between  the  two 
terminate  there.  The  persons  themselves  are  as 

66 


66  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAKD   ROE. 

diverse  as  their  biographies.  The  young  men  and 
women  of  novels  are  always  beautiful  in  form  and 
feature.  They  are  intensely  intellectual,  highly  ac- 
complished for  their  station,  and  are  positively  over- 
burdened with  virtues. 

To  a  practical  mind,  the  tantalization  of  this,  is 
that  the  novelist  always  closes  his  labors  just  at  the 
moment  when  the  happy  couple  begin  theirs:  and 
whereas  one  wishes  to  know  how  much  more  happily 
and  usefully  these  paragons  get  on  in  life  than  hum- 
drum human  beings  are  able  to  do,  one  perpetually 
finds  himself  reduced  to  the  privilege  of  guessing  at 
it.  People  so  highly  endowed  by  nature  and  art 
ought  to  achieve  very  bright  examples  of  domestic 
felicity.  But  do  they  ? 

Nobody  can  tell  whether  they  do,  or  not.  But  if 
there  should  now  and  then  be  a  failure  in  experi- 
ments on  which  so  much  preparation  has  been 
lavished,  the  sufferers  might  console  themselves  by 
reflecting  that  disappointments  of  that  kind  are  not 
peculiar  to  imaginary  people.  For  although  the 
every-day  women  of  real  life  are  quite  as  worthy  to 
be  loved,  and  quite  as  likely  to  make  homes  happy, 
as  the  exceptional  and  imaginary  women-of  novels ;  it 
by  no  means  follows  that  every  woman  in  real  life  is 
just  what  she  should  be. 

For  example,  what  is  termed  a  highly  cultivated 
woman  may  be  an  "  ornament  to  her  sex  "  so  long  as 
she  stands  on  the  pedestal  she  has  chosen.  She  may 
eclipse  all  her  contemporaries  in  conversation  with 
men  of  distinction,  in  foreign  languages.  She  may 
shine  in  discussion  with  learned  professors  of  the  ex- 
act sciences.  She  may  inform  chemists,  mineralogists, 
botanists,  natural  philosophers  and  geologists  wherein 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  67 

they  could  popularize  their  books.  She  may  make 
valuable  suggestions  to  moral  philosophers,  metaphy- 
sicians, historians  and  poets.  Her  mastery  of  music 
may  enable  her  to  sing  like  Garcia  and  play  like  Ap 
Thomas.  But  it  is  very  questionable  whether  in  the 
capacity  of  a  daughter,  wife  or  mother,  she  would 
acquit  herself  creditably. 

Again,  the  strong-minded  woman  may  be  an  admir- 
able politician.  She  may  point  out  the  blunders  of 
all  our  public  men,  dead  or  alive.  She  may  suggest 
valuable  alterations  in  the  elective  franchise  and  trial 
by  jury.  She  may  propose  important  municipal  re- 
gulations for  our  cities.  She  may  change  the  plan 
of  operations  of  the  benevolent  societies  of  the  day. 
She  may  improve  the  church  discipline,  and  dragoon 
her  clergyman  into  more  thoroughly  doctrinal  preach- 
ing. She  may  revolutionize  the  system  of  instruction 
in  schools.  She  may  discipline  her  husband  (if  she 
has  one)  on  the  same  principle  that  she  disciplines 
her  servants.  She  may  restrain  all  the  mischievous 
proclivities,  evil  dispositions  and  bad  habits  of  her 
neighbor's  children.  She  may,  in  short,  instruct 
everybody  and  rule  everybody.  But  heaven  help 
the  family  circle  where  she  gets  a  footing  in  any  of 
the  aforesaid  capacities — daughter,  wife  or  mother ! 
to  say  nothing  of  grandmother  or  aunt. 

Plain,  quiet,  unostentatious  people,  whatever  may 
be  their  rank  in  the  social  compact :  people  who  form 
the  majority  of  every  community  and  have  the  good 
fortune  to  be  remarkable  for  nothing :  these  people 
enjoy  life  and  have  the  best  of  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  people  of  distinction,  mark,  no- 
toriety; people  who  make  themselves  conspicuous; 
who  attract  attention;  who  are  admired,  followed, 


05  JOHN   DOE   AND    RICHARD   ROE. 

imitated,  nattered :  these  people  pay  a  high  price  for 
their  medals,  and  at  the  end  they  usually  find  them 
to  be  nothing  but  old  brass. 

As  a  matter  of  common  experience,  the  enjoyments 
of  the  family  circle  depend  very  little  on  the  beauty 
or  the  accomplishments  of  its  members.  Reciprocal 
aifection,  from  which  naturally  flow  kind  disposition 
and  accommodating  temper — these  are  the  substan- 
tials  of  domestic  life;  and  without  these,  domestic 
life  is  all  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit. 

A  nice  time  we  should  have  in  this  world,  to  be 
sure,  if  no  woman  could  be  loved  who  didn't  come  up 
to  the  regulation  standard  of  the  novelist !  Hair  as 
black  as  jet,  or  as  yellow  as  gold,  or  as  brown  as  a 
chestnut :  forehead  as  white  and  pure  and  transpa- 
rent as  alabaster  :  eyes  as  bright  as  diamonds :  eye- 
brows pencilled  into  a  perfect  arch :  eyelashes  an  inch 
long :  nose,  aquiline,  or  roman,  or  grecian,  or  pug, 
only  let  it  be  "  chiselled  :"  lips  as  red  as  coral :  teeth 
as  white  as  pearl :  chin  as  round  and  dimpled  as  a 
peach  :  cheeks  like  a  rose  :  neck  like  a  swan's  :  arms 
phapp :  hands  small :  fingers  tapering :  waist  about 
thence  of  a  napkin-ring :  and  feet  so  tiny  that  you 
can  hardly  see  them. 

Fortunately  for  herself,  Jane  Doe  was  no  heroine. 
She  was  a  well  educated,  well-looking,  sweet-tem- 
pered girl  of  nineteen ;  destitute  of  aifectation  ;  as 
free  from  vanity  as  any  young  woman  needs  to  be ; 
and,  in  sober  truth,  not  superior  to,  nor  different  from, 
ten  thousand  other  young  women  in  her  social  and 
geographical  position.  But  for  all  that,  perhaps  by 
reason  of  all  that,  Alfred  Traverse  loved  her.  He 
loved  her  dearly.  And  he  had  told  her  so,  many  a 
time.  And  she  believed  him  without  asking  him  to 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   EOE.  69 

swear  to  it.  Why  he  loved  her,  is  nobody's  business. 
And  supposing  it  were  somebody's  business?  Can 
anybody  tell  why  anybody  loves  anybody?  That 
indefinable  something  which  love  or  sympathy  seeks 
for  itself  and  finds  for  itself,  and  wishes  nobody  to 
point  out  or  describe ;  which  is  independent  and  irre- 
spective of  physical  beauty ;  which,  reciprocally, 
grows  with  one's  growth,  strengthens  with  one's 
strength,  and  becomes  a. part  of  one's  very  being;  and 
which  in  fact  exists  at  all  only  because  it  is  secret  and 
exclusive  between  the  two  whom  it  unites  in  bonds 
stronger  than  death — why  should  any  one  vainly 
attempt  to  explain  it  ? 

And  Alfred  Traverse,  whom  Jane  Doe  loved  in 
return  quite  as  dearly  as  he  loved  her,  and  maybe  a 
fraction  to  spare — who  was  Alfred  Traverse  ?  Had 
he  chestnut  curls  and  remarkable  features,  figure  and 
feet  ?  •  Did  his  voice  resemble  a  trumpet  ?  Was  he 
a  giant  in  physical  strength  ?  Could  he  handle  an 
unmanageable  horse  like  a  kitten  ?  Were  dogs  afraid 
of  him  ?  After  throwing  a  score  of  ruffians  out  of  a 
third-story  window,  each  man  of  whom  was  twice  his 
own  size,  could  he  out-fence  a  fencing-master?  out- 
shoot  a  gallery  keeper  ?  out-box  a  champion  ?  and  do 
ten  thousand  other  things  equally  indispensable  to 
domestic  happiness  ? 

Not  at  all.  He  was  a  young  lawyer,  attached  to 
his  profession  and  well  qualified  for  it  and  in  it.  But 
there  was  nothing  about  him  personally,  intellectually 
or  morally,  to  distinguish  him  from  his  companions  and 
acquaintances.  His  age  was  twenty-five  years,  more 
or  less  :  and  it  is  perfectly  immaterial  whether  a  little 
more  or  a  little  less.  He  was  a  junior  partner  in  the 


70  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAKD   EOE. 

firm  of  Rebutter,  Surrebutter  and  Co.,  and  his  income 
for  the  current  year  was  estimated  by  good  judges  at 
three  thousand  five  hundred  dollars.  The  engage- 
ment between  him  and  Jane  Doe  was  approved  of, 
and  assented  to,  by  the  friends  on  both  sides  the  mo- 
ment it  was  proposed  to  them.  The  most  casual 
observer  will  therefore  see  at  a  glance  that  compli- 
cations, misunderstandings,  disappointments,  hard- 
hearted fathers,  trap-doors,  secret  passages,  locks, 
bars,  bolts,  hints,  messages,  intercepted  letters,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing,  could  not  be  wrought  into  and 
twisted  up  with  the  contract  between  Traverse  and 
Doe,  any  how  you  could  fix  it. 

The  law  firm  in  which  Traverse  was  a  partner  had 
charge  of  John  Doe's  law  business.  Rebutter,  Surre- 
butter and  Co.  were  therefore  of  counsel  for  the  plain- 
tiff in  the  celebrated  case  of  John  Doe  against  Rich- 
ard Roe. 

For  that  reason,  among  others,  Traverse  often 
dropped  in  at  Doe's  house  of  an  evening,  and  some- 
times remained  there  as  late  as  ten  o'clock — occa- 
sionally later. 

"  Traverse,"  said  Doe  to  Alfred,  at  one  of  these 
opportunities,  "  what  are  the  chances  for  trial  of  Doe 
against  Roe  at  the  next  term  ?" 

"  Very  good,  I  should  hope,"  responded  Traverse 
"  Roe  has  now  run  through  every  pretext  for  delay, 
known  and  unknown  to  the  law ;  always,  however, 
assuring  the  court  and  everybody  else  that  he  is  very 
impatient  for  a  trial." 

"  You  will  be  surprised,  I  suppose,  to  hear  me 
say,"  Doe  remarked,  "  that  1  now  have  a  reason  for 
postponing  that  trial.  I  think  I  can  find  some  new 


JOHN   DOE   AND   JRICHAKD   DOE.  71 

evidence  which,  if  not  relevant  to  the  issue,  will  at 
least  be  relevant  to  Roe.  Can't  you  neglect  to  put 
the  case  on  the  calendar  for  a  term  or  two  ?" 

"  Nothing  is  easier,"  replied  Traverse ;  "  and  no 
doubt  the  defendant  would  chuckle  over  our  seeming 
negligence,  if  you  really  wish  for  delay.  "What  is  the 
character  of  the  evidence  ?" 

"  It  is  the  evidence  of  a  very  bad  character,  if  I 
ever  get  it,"  replied  Doe,  half  punning  on  the  words : 
"  but  I  cannot  now  give  you  the  particulars,  for  the 
very  good  reason  that  I  don't  know  them.  Still,  a 
mere  chance  of  the  game  I  have  in  view,  is  well 
worth  waiting  for." 

"  I  don't  know  about  this,  John,"  interposed  his 
sister.  "  If  a  new  game  is  to  be  played  in  which  law 
is  an  element  and  Richard  Roe  a  party,  I  think  I 
can  guess  where  the  chances  lie.  At  any  rate,  it 
does  seem  odd,  after  all  your  eagerness  to  get  this  case 
tried,  that  you  should  propose  delay." 

"  I  grant  you,  Susan,  it  does  seem  odd,"  rejoined 
Doe :  "  and  you  may  think  me  unreasonably  reserved 
in  declining  a  further  explanation.  Traverse  will 
probably  think  I  might  as  well  have  kept  to  myself 
what  I  have  said.  We  will  imagine  I  was  thinking 
loud,  and  so  let  it  pass  for  the  present.  Only,  Tra- 
verse, you  will  remember  to  forget  the  notice  ?" 

"  If  the  case  is  closed  for  the  present,"  interposed 
Jane  very  demurely — for  she,  like  her  aunt,  had 
picked  up  some  of  the  legal  forms  of  expression 
from  the  interminable  discussions  between  Alfred 
and  her  uncle  on  the  interminable  case  of  Doe  and 
Roe — "  if  the  case  is  closed  for  the  present,  I  suppose 
I  cannot  submit  my  point  to  the  consideration  of  the 
court." 


72  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

"  "We'll  reopen  it  for  you,  Jane,"  said  her  uncle ; 
"  what  is  your  point  ?" 

"  Only  this,  if  the  court  please,"  replied  Jane ; 
"the  plaintiff  has  been  in  a  fever  of  anxiety  for 
months  to  get  this  case  tried,  because,  principally,  he 
was  afraid  some  of  the  witnesses  would  be  absent, 
sick,  or  dead.  I  would  like  to  inquire  whether  my 
learned  friend  has  any  less  cause  now,  than  formerly, 
for  anxiety  on  that  point  ?" 

"  The  truth  is,  my  dear  child,"  said  Doe,  not  a  lit- 
tle amused  at  Jane's  technical  sharpness,  "  the  wit- 
ness I  now  have  in  my  mind  may  be  worth  all  the 
rest,  and  he  is  absent  already.  But  I  must  close  the 
case  again,  or  you  will  trap  me  into  saying  more  than 
I  am  prepared  to  tell." 


CHAPTER  YIH. 

• 

BREAD   ON   THE   WATERS. 

IF  the  trick,  by  virtue  of  which  Wilson  escaped 
from  prison,  had  been  practised  on  the  turnkey,  or  on 
any  person  officially  attached  to  the  Tombs,  it  would 
have  lived  exactly  nine  days  in  the  newspapers  and 
in  town-talk.  But  the  high  character  of  Richard 
Roe  gave  to  Wilson's  exploit  a  prolonged  existence 
of  nine  additional  days :  an  instance  of  longevity  that 
has  no  parallel  in  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant. 
However,  it  all  came  to  nothing.  . 

Wilson  had  been  traced  on  board  of  several 
steamers.  One,  for  California ;  two,  for  Liverpool ; 
one,  for  Havre  ;  and  one  for  Bremen,  via  Southamp- 
ton :  besides  half  a  dozen  for  the  West  Indies.  He 
had  been  seen  in  the  cars  of  several  railroads.  He 
had  made  pedestrian  tours  through  several  of  the 
United  States.  He  had  been  upset  in  a  stage-coach, 
drowned  in  a  canal,  lynched  for  an  abolitionist. 
Many  a  telegram  had  notified  policemen  to  come 
South,  North,  East,  West,  and  receive  the  precious 
rascal.  Many  a  distant  constable,  without  waiting  for 
the  telegraph,  had  brought  to  New-York  this,  that, 
and  the  other  poor  devil  who,  unable  to  give  a  good 
account  of  himself,  and  happening  to  resemble,  or 
not  to  resemble,  the  newspaper  descriptions  of  Wilson, 
had  been  found  somewhere  under  suspicious  circum- 
stances and  arrested  for  the  chance  of  the  reward. 

78 


74  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   ROE. 

But,  as  aforesaid,  it  all  came  to  nothing  in  the  way 
of  producing  the  body  of  Wilson. 

One  tolerably  good  reason  for  the  last  mentioned 
fact,  is  the  other  fact  that,  about  four  o'clock  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  escape,  while  the  rain  was  pouring 
pitchforks,  and  the  wind  was  blowing  great  guns, 
Wilson,  in  proprid persona,  and  as  wet  as  a  drowned 
rat,  walked  into  the  humble  dwelling  of  a  poor  widow 
whom,  in  his  better  days,  he  had  made  a  friend  of, 
by  his  charities ;  and  who  now  repaid  the  obligation 
by  giving  shelter  to  the  fugitive  and  keeping  his 
secret. 

The  family  of  Mrs.  Pinch  consisted  of  three  indi- 
viduals :  herself,  her  daughter,  Phebe,  about  sixteen 
years  old,  who  went  out  to  day-service  in  families  as 
a  seamstress  ;  and  a  son,  our  sometime  acquaintance 
Tom,  about  eleven  years  old,  the  boy  in  Mr.  Scalpel's 
shop.  There  were  but  two  rooms  on  the  ground- 
floor.  That  in  the  rear  was  occupied  by  the  widow 
and  her  daughter  as  a  bedroom ;  and  the  front  room, 
which  was  something  larger,  was  kitchen,  laundry 
and  parlor  all  in  one,  besides  supplying  sleeping 
accommodations  for  Tom,  by  means  of  a  sofa  bed- 
stead standing  against  the  wall,  opposite  the  cooking- 
stove. 

The  widow  sat  dozing  before  the  stove,  where  coal 
and  wood  were  arranged,  but  not  yet  lighted  for  pre- 
paring the  family  supper,  when  Wilson  entered.  She 
started  at  the  sound  of  his  footsteps ;  then,  mistaking 
him  for  the  landlord,  she  began  to  apologize  for  not 
hearing  his  knock;  and,  presently,  becoming  broad 
awake,  she  exclaimed : 

"  Gracious  me,  Mr.  Wilson !     Is  this  you  3" 
Hush  I"  said  Wilson  ;  "  are  you  alone  ?" 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   ROE.  75 

"  Yes,"  she  answered.  "  Phebe  is  out  at  work ; 
and  it  is  not  yet  time  for  Tom  to  be  home." 

"  Then,"  said  Wilson,  stepping  hastily  to  the  door 
of  the  room  and  bolting  it,  "  if  you  think  yourself 
under  any  obligation  to  me,  help  me  now.  I  am 
able  to  pay  you  liberally  for  all  you  can  do.  In  the 
course  of  the  night,  or  to-morrow  morning  at  the 
latest,  the  police  will  be  in  pursuit  of  me.  If  you  can 
hide  me  here,  I  shall  be  safe." 

"  Mr.  Wilson  !"  she  exclaimed,  "  what  have  you 
done  2" 

"  Nothing,  now,"  said  he,  "but  escaped  from  prison. 
But,  for  God's  sake,  leave  explanations  till  I  can  make 
them  at  leisure  and  in  security.  Can  you  give  me  a 
hiding-place  ?" 

"  For  to-night,  I  might,"  answered  the  poor 
woman,  wringing  her  hands  in  the  extremity  of 
distress. 

"  As  well  not  at  all,"  cried  Wilson ;  "  to-night  I 
may  be  safe  anywhere.  How  is  this  house  occu- 
pied 2" 

Above  this  ground-floor  there  was  but  one  story 
and  a  garret :-  and,  as  good  luck  would  have  it — so 
the  widow  remembered,  when  the  first  confusion  of 
her  surprise  was  orer — the  family  of  Rabbits  who 
had  hitherto  occupied  the  upper  part  of  the  house, 
had  been  turned  out  that  very  morning  for  not  pay- 
ing rent.  A  drunken  husband,  a  sickly  wife  who 
had  seen  better  days,  and  a  ragged  child  or  two 
made  up  the  group  so  removed.  It  was  the  old  and 
familiar  story,  to  be  heard  everywhere.  They  were 
miserable  enough,  but  their  misfortune  was  luck  to 
Wilson.  The  rooms  were  to  let.  A  bill  was  to  be 
put  up  to-morrow,  applicants  to  inquire  of  Mrs.  Pinch 


76  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHAKD   EOE. 

on  the  premises,  and  she  already  had  the  key.  A 
cooking-stove  remained  there,  which  belonged  to  the 
landlord.  There  was  no  other  furniture.  So  far, 
everything  was  favorable. 

For  present  security  against  intruders,  the  widow 
and  Wilson  immediately  transferred  themselves  into 
these  deserted  rooms,  taking  up  two  chairs  and 
the  materials  for  a  fire,  that  Wilson  might  dry  his 
clothes. 

Mrs.  Pinch,  in  casting  about  for  ulterior  arrange- 
ments, remembered  that  she  had  an  uncle,  living  or 
dead,  in  Wisconsin.  Wilson  might  personate  this 
uncle,  as  the  latter  had  never  lived  in  New  York,  and 
thus  the  relative  positions  of  the  fugitive  and  the 
widow's  family  could  be  easily  defined.  Furniture 
could  be  procured  at  once,  to  make  the  apartments 
comfortable.  Care  must  be  taken  to  prevent  the 
children  from  becoming  too  familiar  with  their  uncle 
Sam ;  and  to  that  end,  uncle  Sam  must  be  an 
invalid — a  part  easily  played.  Mrs.  Pinch  summed 
up  these  details  with  an  overflowing  heart.  Wilson 
had,  in  former  days,  assisted  her  in  the  hour  of 
extreme  necessity — had,  in  her  estimation,  saved  her- 
self and  her  children  from  starving :  and  the  oppor- 
tunity of  rendering  so  substantial  a  return,  was  equi- 
valent to  receiving  an  additional  benefit. 

A  fire  being  now  lighted,  and  a  blanket  furnished 
to  Wilson,  so  that  he  might  wrap  himself  up  in  it 
while  his  clothes  were  getting  dried,  the  widow  with- 
drew to  make  preparations  for  supper.  Wilson  took 
a  survey  of  the  premises.  He  put  the  fastenings  of 
the  door  to  their  right  use ;  took  off  his  boots  ;  hung 
his  coat  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  spread  his  vest  on 
the  seat  of  it,  enveloped  himself  in  the  blanket  and 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  77 

sat  down  in  front  of  the  fire.  The  night  being  pro- 
vided for,  he  must  plan  for  the  morrow. 

"  The  old  dodge  of  the  first  steamer,  or  the  first 
train,"  he  reflected,  "  is  played  out.  If  a  man  wants 
to  be  snug,  let  him  hold  on  to  quiet  quarters  in  the 
metropolis.  Let  me  see.  My  heavy  whiskers  must 
come  off:  that's  one  important  item  of  disguise. 
Short  hair  is  fashionable ;  reducing  mine  to  a  close 
crop  will  be  another  item.  Add  to  that,  blue  specta- 
cles. As  for  clothes,  I  have  worn  plain  black  for  an 
indefinite  time.  Change  the  material  to  gray,  and  a 
sack  in  place  of  a  frock  coat ;  then  clap  over  all  a 
soft  hat,  and  the  devil  himself  wouldn't  recognize 
me!" 

And,  with  this  sagacious  conclusion,  he  fell  fast 
asleep. 

Mrs.  Pinch  resolved  not  to  enlighten  her  children, 
that  night,  about  uncle  Sam's  arrival.  They  need 
not  know  it,  perhaps,  for  a  day  or  two.  Phebe  was 
usually  absent  during  the  day,  and  Tom  was  at  home 
only  at  his  meals  and  at  night.  She,  therefore,  made 
special  provision  for  Wilson's  supper,  and  left  her 
.benefactor  to  take  care  of  himself  according  to  the 
circumstances — he  having  assured  her  that,  as  a  bed 
could  by  no  chance  be  procured  until  the  next  day, 
he  could  easily  for  one  night  make  himself  comfort- 
able with  a  blanket  on  the  floor :  a  better  resting- 
place  than  he  had  had  for  some  months,  all  things 
considered. 

The  first  thing  in  order  in  the  morning,  after  the 
children  were  gone,  and  Wilson  had  discussed  a  com- 
fortable breakfast,  was  to  procure  a  suit  of  clothes  for 
the  fugitive,  and  the  means  of  removing  his  hair  and 
whiskers.  As  there  was  plenty  of  money  at  hand, 


78  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

Mrs.  Pinch  had  no  difficulty  in  carrying  out  her 
uncle's  views.  Scissors,  razors,  combs,  brushes  and 
ready-made  clothes  were  produced  in  a  fabulously 
short  space  of  time ;  and  after  Wilson  had  availed 
himself  of  the  widow's  services  in  reducing  his  hair 
to  an  average  length  of  half  an  inch  all  around,  he 
despatched  her  for  certain  indispensable  articles  of 
furniture.  He  then  reaped  off  his  whiskers,  shaved 
down  the  stubble,  and  inaugurated  his  person  into 
his  new  apparel.  The  selections  had  been  well 
made  ;  and  it  was  obvious  that  a  glance  at  a  looking- 
glass,  which  might  be  expected  to  arrive  soon,  would 
show  that  Wilson  himself  could  easily  mistake  him- 
self for  almost  anybody  else. 

The  new  clothes  being  well  on,  his  next  care  was 
to  get  the  old  ones  well  off ;  for  so  long  as  any  two 
square  inches  of  them  remained  together,  recognition, 
identification,  or  some  other  infernal  bother  would 
come  of  it.  He  felt  reluctant  to  destroy  a  good  suit, 
for  it  might  be  of  service  to  almost  any  man,  hav- 
ing been  that  day  good  enough  for  Richard  Roe; 
but,  on  the  whole,  self-preservation  is  the  first  law. 
Accordingly,  shears  and  hands  reduced  the  panta- 
loons to  tatters ;  the  vest  disappeared  in  the  same 
way ;  and  the  coat,  in  turn,  yielded  to  the  destroyer — 

"  What's  in  that  pocket  ?  Papers  ?  Did  the  old 
joker  leave  any  private  letters  to  tell  tales  ?  By 
heaven  !  this  beats  cock-fighting !  Here's  my  cake 
and  my  money,  too  !  I've  doubled  my  capital  with- 
out knowing  it.  I've  got  old  Sobersides  on  the  hip 
yet!" 

The  furniture  came.  A  small  valise  came,  into 
which  portable  valuables  might  be  stowed.  Pens, 
ink  and  paper  came,  with  contingent  articles  of  sta- 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICKAED   ROE.  79 

tionery ;  and  one  of  the  first  tilings  "Wilson  did,  was 
to  make  a  will,  which  he  sealed  up  with  gum  and 
secured  with  wax  :  for  he  had  heard  that  gum  fasten- 
ing, like  all  other  things  in  this  fast  age,  would  give 
way  to  steam  power.  The  particulars  of  the  will  did 
not  then  transpire.  They  will  transpire  in  due  time. 
But  apart  from  that  carefully  sealed-up  envelope, 
Wilson  had  no  valuable  papers  of  any  sort  or  descrip- 
tion whatever,  in  his  possession. 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  the  landlord  called,  and 
was  much  gratified  to  find  that  he  had  lost  no  time 
in  changing  tenants.  He  had  little  thought  for  any- 
thing beyond  money ;  and,  receiving  a  month's  rent 
in  advance,  and  in  gold,  too,  he  troubled  himself  no 
further  in  the  premises. 

Wilson  had  made  a  capital  beginning. 


CIIAPTEE  IX. 

JAKS     AND     SWEETMEATS. 

DOCTOR  JENKINS'S  wife  was  jealous — perhaps  the 
greatest  blunder  that  a  physician's  wife  can  commit. 

The  wife  of  any  other  man  has  a  nominal  remedy 
for  that  disease,  because  every  other  man  is  the  slave 
of  time.  He  is  bound  to  hours.  They  may  be  late 
hours  ;  they  may  be  irregular  hours ;  but,  in  the 
sailor's  phrase,  he  fetches  up  somewhere.  And  if 
he  doesn't  come  to  time,  he  can  be  required  to  ex- 
plain. Again,  any  other  man  can  be  watched  and 
followed  and  spotted.  However  numerous  his 
friends,  however  ramifed  his  business,  however  scat- 
tered the  localities  where  any  contingency  may  call 
for  his  presence ;  these  all  have  a  limit,  which  can 
be  expressed  on  paper  and  made  to  assume  the 
exactitude  of  a  mathematical  proposition.  So  that, 
a  woman  can  compare  the  possible  limits  with  the 
actual  practice,  and  thus  detect  a  false  step  if  it 
varies  but  a  thousandth  part  of  an  inch  from  perpen- 
dicularity. And  then,  having  ascertained  the  pertur- 
bation, she  can  follow  it  up  to  its  primary  cause  with 
terrible  certainty. 

But  the  physician  can  baffle  her  skill,  generally. 
He  can  set  at  naught  her  art.  He  can  defy  her 
science.  Not  intentionally  perhaps;  not  systemati- 
cally ;  not  even  consciously,  need  this  be :  but  from 
necessity,  and  in  the  nature  of  the  case — always,  and 


80 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   KOE.  81 

of  course,  excepting  necessary  exceptions.  Look  at 
it!  Can  any  human  sagacity  tell,  by  conjecture, 
"where  he  goes  ?  why  he  goes  ?  or  when  he  goes  ? 
Do  the  night  watches,  or  the  day  watches,  clocks, 
sundials,  or  hourglasses  find  him  asleep  ?  Did  Ar- 
gus ever  see  his  eyes  closed,  unless  when  he  was 
winking?  And  over  and  above  all  other  impedi- 
ments to  observation  and  espionage,  doesn't  he  go 
about  in  a  gig  with  a  fast  horse,  so  that  all  the  tricks 
of  watching,  waiting,  following  and  pursuing  are,  as 
by  a  horse-laugh,  laughed  to  scorn  ? 

Hence,  the  folly  on  the  part  of  a  physician's  wife, 
when  she  sets  out  to  cultivate  jealousy.  Other  wo- 
men, if  they  stick  to  it,  may  hope  to  discover  some- 
thing ;  but  the  task  of  a  physician's  wife  is  nearly  or 
quite  hopeless  from  the  start.  Nevertheless,  Mrs. 
Jenkins  one  day  said  to  her  husband : 

"  Doctor,  you  were  a  long  time  at  Mrs.  McPher- 
son's  this  morning." 

"  I  was  so,  indeed,"  answered  the  doctor ;  "  but 
how  did  you  happen  to  know  it  ?" 

"  Mere  accident,"  she  rejoined,  looking  as  cool  as  a 
cucumber.  "I  saw  your  gig  there  on  my  way  to 
Stewart's ;  and  it  was  there  when  I  returned." 

"  The  poor  lady  is  quite  ill,"  the  doctor  remarked 
quietly,  resolving  to  give  no  advantage  to  the  enemy 
in  a  controversy  which  long  experience  told  him  was 
at  hand.  He  knew  the  symptoms,  of  old. 

"  Ah,  indeed  ?"  continued  the  lady,  perceiving  th  at 
the  doctor  was  on  his  guard,  and  therefore  herself 
beginning  to  look  daggers  up  at  the  ceiling  and  around 
the  room ;  "  it's  very  odd,  though,  that  Jane  McPher- 
eon  should  have  told  me  this  morning  her  mother  was 
much  better." 

4* 


82  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

"  Where  did  you  chance  to  see  Jane  JVIcPherson 
this  morning  ?"  pursued  the  doctor ;  "  she  has  been 
at  Mrs.  Barber's,  in  Brooklyn,  for  more  than  a  week  ; 
although  this  afternoon  she  has  been  sent  for,  on  her 
mother's  account.  As  a  matter  of  curiosity,  I  would 
like  to  know  where  you  saw  her  ?" 

"  At  Mrs.  Barber's,"  answered  the  lady,  puckering 
up  her  lips  to  say  something  unexpected  and  which 
would  cost  her  some  effort ;  "  1  owed  Mrs.  Barber  a 
call  and  I  went  over  there  from  Stewart's." 

"  You  have  '  owed '  that  call  a  long  time,  my 
dear,"  said  the  doctor,  with  just  enough  irony  in 
his  tone  to  be  offensive.  "You  quarrelled  with 
Mrs.  Barber  a  year  ago ;  and  in  a  way  that  I 
should  imagine  left  very  little  chance  of  a  reconcilia- 
tion." 

"  Oh  !"  retorted  the  lady  bitterly,  "  I  suppose  you 
are  coming  around  in  favor  of  eternal  hatred,  as  you 
formerly  preached  up  everlasting  friendships." 

"  By  no  means,  my  dear,"  replied  the  doctor ;  "  I 
have  little  occasion  to  prompt  you  in  the  way  of 
hatreds.  But  in  the  way  of  reconciliations,  I  must 
say  this  one  strikes  me  by  its  oddity." 

"  It  is  the  oddest  thing  in  the  world,  isn't  it  ?"  re- 
turned the  lady,  waxing  more  wroth  at  each  step 
of  the  conversation ;  "  the  very  oddest  thing  in  the 
world  for  people  to  make  up  their  quarrels  ?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  the  doctor,  "  not  at  all  odd  in  the 
abstract.  I  wish  there  was  more  of  it  in  the  world." 

"  He !  he !"  cried  the  lady,  trying  to  extemporise 
a  laugh ;  but,  for  want  of  due  preparation  and  of 
the  right  mental  materials,  she  broke  down  in  it : 
"  he !  he !  you'd  like  to  reconcile  difficulties  a  little 
nearer  home,  wouldn't  you,  doctor  ?  But  I  can  tell 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  83 

you,  sir,  the  way  to  reconcile  difficulties  is  for  the 
one  who  is  in  the  wrong,  sir,  to  put  himself  in  the 
right,  in  the  first  place.  Deception,  sir,  is  at  the 
bottom  of  these  things.  Leave  off  deceiving  your 
wife,  sir,  or  rather  trying  to  deceive  her ;  for  I  give 
you  fair  notice,  you  can't  make  it  out — I'm  on  your 
track,  sir!  Leave  off  deception,  sir!  Tell  the 
truth,  sir !" — and,  by  this  time  she  had  worked  her- 
self up  to  a  point  of  oppressed  and  indignant  inno- 
cence that  required  something  more  than  words  for 
its  adequate  utterance.  She  therefore  relieved  her 
overburdened  heart  by  animated  gesticulation,  and 
her  little  fist  came  so  near  the  doctor's  face,  that  the 
difference  between  her  action  and  a  blow  was  really 
nothing  to  speak  of. 

The  heart  of  the  doctor,  as  the  saying  is,  leaped 
into  his  throat  at  the  unutterable  indignity. 

"  Madam,"  said  he,  resolutely,  taking  a  step  back, 
and  assuming  an  attitude  that  offered  very  little 
encouragement  to  the  lady  for  a  repetition  of  her 
gesture,  "  you  this  morning  went  out  of  your  way  to 
watch  my  gig,  knowing  from  my  own  voluntary 
information  that  I  was  to  call  on  Mrs.  McPherson. 
You  then  went  over  to  Brooklyn  to  call  on  a  lady 
whom  a  twelvemonth  ago  you  insulted  so  outrage- 
ously that  her  whole  circle  of  friends  dropped  your 
acquaintance  on  her  account.  And  why  do  you  now 
put  yourself  in  the  power  of  a  lady  who  then  deser- 
vedly humiliated  you  ?  You  do  it  in  order  to  make 
a  clandestine  inquiry  about  the  health  of  one  of  your 
own  friends  in  New- York,  in  the  hope  that  the 
daughter  of  that  friend  may  give  you  an  account  of 
her  mother's  health  that  shall  differ  from  and  contra- 
dict what  you  expect  me  to  say  on  the  same  subject ; 


84  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   EOE. 

you  having  already  decided  in  your  own  mind  that 
my  calls  on  Mrs.  McPherson  are  for  a  purpose  other 
than   a  discharge  of  my  professional  duties.     And 
you  now  have  the  hardihood  to  produce  this  contra- 
dictory statement  by  way  of  confirming  your  jealous 
suspicions  of  me.     Madam,  I  will  not  indulge  you  so 
much   as  to  corroborate  my  statement  about  Mrs. 
McPherson's  illness.     Nor  will  I  for   another  day 
endure  your  treatment   of  me.     You  have  played 
Mrs.  Snagsby  on  me  past  the  point  of  endurance. 
Do  you  happen   to  recollect  that  passage  in   the 
twenty-fifth  chapter  of  Blecik  House  f    Mrs.  Snags- 
by, madam,  like  yourself,  made  nocturnal  examina- 
tions of  her  husband's  pockets  ;  secretly  read  his  let- 
ters ;  opened  and  re-sealed  letters  arriving  for  him 
in  his  absence  ;  privately  examined  his  books,  papers, 
valuables,   locked   and  unlocked ;    listened    behind 
doors,  watched  over  the  stairs,  hid  herself  in  closets 
for  further  watchings ;  followed  him  and  paid  ser- 
vants to  follow  him  wherever  he  went ;  and  made 
herself  not  only  bone  of  his  bone,  but  shadow  of  his 
shadow  ;  and  at  last  did  all  this  so  constantly  and  so 
openly  that  she  became  the  laughing-stock  of  her 
servants  and  her  neighborhood.     Dickens  drew  that 
entire  character  with  a  pen  of  inspiration,  and  my 
experience  proves  its  literal  truth  throughout,  even 
to  the  minutest  particular.     1  advise  you  and  all  jeal- 
ous wives  to  read  that  book,  and  to  recommend  it  to 
your  friends.     And,  in  the  meantime,  you  may  take 
due  notice  that  froni  this  moment  you  may  suspect 
what  you  please,  follow  me  and  cause  me  to  be  fol- 
lowed where  you  please,    and  allow  yourself  to  be 
influenced  by  what  friends  you  please.     And  when 
you  think  you  have  discovered  something  discredit- 


•  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  85 

able  to  me,  you  may  make  the  most  of  it.  You  shall 
never  have  another  opportunity  to  abuse  my  confi- 
dence. And,  as  to  your  good  or  ill  opinion,  your 
friendship  and  your  hostility,  I  equally  despise  and 
defy  them." 

The  doctor  had  been  repressing  his  resentment  for 
some  years.  He  had  suffered  in  his  practice  and 
even  in  his  private  friendships  by  the  meddling, 
aggressive,  rampant  jealousy  of  his  wife — he,  mean- 
time, aiming  at  the  doctrine  of  "  conciliation"  which 
in  fact  only  encouraged  Mrs.  Jenkins  in  rebellion, 
while  every  one  but  the  doctor  saw  that  his  only 
safe  policy  was  "  coercion.^  At  last  the  doctor  saw 
that  himself ;  and  he  summarily  resolved  to  be  cap- 
tain of  his  own  ship.  He  had  reached  that  precise 
point  in  his  own  history,  when  this  last  provocation 
was  thrust  upon  him ;  and  he  therefore  made  his 
demonstration  in  a  speech  which,  if  somewhat  long, 
was  also  somewhat  intelligible. 

But  the  lady  had  been  for  a  long  time  accustomed 
to  command  on  the  quarter-deck,  and  she  was  not  to 
be  driven  from  her  own  ground,  and  with  her  own 
weapons,  in  a  hurry.  The  suddenness,  the  vehe- 
mence, and  the  extreme  perspicacity  of  the  broad- 
side, however,  astonished  her  to  such  a  degree  that 
she  paused  for  a  moment  ere  she  returned  it.  Her 
air  resembled  that  of  a  huge  lady-mastiff,  which,  on 
turning  a  corner,  finds  herself  waylaid  and  threat- 
ened by  a  gentleman  whiffet. 

Before  the  doctor  had  fairly  made  an  end  of  speak- 
ing, the  lady  began  to  realize  the  inconceivable  fact 
that  after  years  of  passive  endurance,  the  man  of 
powders  and  pills  had  roused  himself  to  affirmative 
resistance.  Next  came  a  consciousness  that  this 


86  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

man  had  actually  commenced  an  equalization  of  old 
accounts,  by  paying  back  to  herself  some  of  her  own 
coin.  He  had  ventured  to  return  to  her,  reservedly, 
what  she  had  unreservedly  heaped  upon  him.  In  a 
word,  he  had  rebelled  :  and  the  way  she  would  crush 
him,  was  a  caution  ! 

"  You  despise !  you  defy  !"  she  shrieked  out  in  a 
tone  that  set  all  the  hanging  articles  of  furniture  to 
vibrating. 

Just  at  that  moment  the  street  door  bell  was  rung 
with  unwonted  emphasis :  and  as  the  waiter,  over- 
hearing the  accustomed  little  family  altercation,  and 
anticipating  some  fun,  was  already  listening  in  the 
hall,  he  flew  to  the  door  and  had  it  wide  open  before 
the  clamor  of  the  bell  was  at  an  end.  Another 
instant,  and  he  bolted,  nothing  loth,  into  the  parlor 
with  the  painful  intelligence  that  old  Mr.  Brisket, 
the  butcher,  had  been  run  over  by  an  omnibus  and 
was  lying  in  an  adjoining  apothecary's  shop,  wait- 
ing for  doctor  Jenkins. 

This  interruption  did  not  for  one  moment  impede 
the  torrent  of  Madam  Jenkins's  invective :  she  did 
not  even  seem  aware  of  the  interruption ;  but 
although  the  doctor,  with  a  deep  sense  of  obligation 
to  the  omnibus-driver,  caught  his  hat  and  flew  out 
of  the  house,  the  lady  went  on,  apparently  uncon- 
scious that  her  audience  was  reduced  to  the  inani- 
mate furniture  of  the  apartment.  Indeed,  so  great 
was  her  abstraction,  and  so  blind  her  overflowing 
rage,  that  her  hand  happening  to  alight  on  a  large 
cut-glass  flacon  of  cologne  water  simultaneously  with 
her  catching  a  glance  of  her  own  striding  figure  in 
a  pier-glass  close  at  her  elbow,  she  dashed  the  missile 
at  what  she  supposed  was  the  doctor's  retreating 


JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 


87 


flank,  and  shivered  the  mirror  as  if  a  cannon-ball 
had  struck  it. 

The  crash  and  jingle  of  the  broken  glass  brought 
the  lady  to  a  sudden  pause ;  and  the  waiter,  who  was 
still  listening  in  the  hall,  again  rushed  in  and  asked 
whether  madam  had  rung,  and  what  was  her 
pleasure. 

There  was  no  occasion  to  inquire  whether  madam 
had  rung.  She  had  rung.  And  her  pleasure  was, 
the  carriage.  Under  such  circumstances,  Jehu  was 
not  long  in  coming.  !N"or  was  he  long  in  driving  to 
the  residence  of  Mrs.  Swift,  a  former  schoolfellow 
of  Mrs.  Jenkins,  and  her  bosom  friend  ever  since. 

"  Sophia,"  said  the  enraged  visitor,  to  her  dear- 
est and  best  friend,  "  I  have  caught  that  fellow 
again !" 

"  You  don't  say  so  ? — where  ?"  exclaimed  the  dear- 
est and  best  friend. 

"  Mrs.  McPherson's,"  answered  the  afflicted  wife ; 
"  two  hours  and  a  half  in  that  woman's  room,  and  she 
no  more  sick  than  the  queen  of  Spain." 

"Pay  him  off!"  rejoined  the  dearest  and  best 
friend. 

"  Now,  seriously,  Sophia,  wouldn't  you  ?"  inquired 
the  complainant :  "  would  you  bear  it  ?  would  any- 
body but  a  slave  or  a  fool  bear  it  ?" 

"  My  sweet  Louisa,"  answered  her  dearest  and  best 
friend,  "  I  tell  you  no.  I  have  told  you  so  a  hundred 
times.  The  brute  is  incorrigible,  and  you  owe  it  to 
society  to  make  an  example  of  him.  And  Mrs. 
McPherson,  too  !  A  man  might  be  forgiven  for  some 
things — but  Mrs.  McPherson !  oh,  Lord  !" 

"  Mrs.  McPherson,  or  Mrs.  anybody  else,  it's  all 
one  for  that,"  returned  the  doctor's  wife,  not  quite 


88  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAKD   KOE. 

appreciating  her  dearest  and  best  friend's  distinction ; 
"  but  I  intend  to  separate  from  him,  at  once." 

"  I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  you  say  that,"  replied 
the  dearest  and  best  friend ;  "  and  the  quicker  the 
better." 

"  You  approve  of  my  doing  so,  don't  you,  Sophia  ?" 
continued  the  outraged  lady ;  and,  receiving  an  ap- 
proving nod  from  her  dearest  and  best  friend,  she 
went  on  to  the  details  of  her  project.  These  were 
speedily  arranged  to  the  satisfaction  of  both ;  and, 
with  many  thanks  to  her  dearest  and  best  friend, 
Mrs.  Jenkins  hastened  to  seek  further  counsel  and 
approval  at  the  hands  of  dear  good  Doctor  Perkins. 

Was  Doctor  Perkins  at  home  ?  Of  course  he  was. 
He  was  always  at  home  to  such  friends  as  Mrs. 
Jenkins. 

When  the  good  Doctor  became  aware  of  the  nature 
of  the  matter  in  hand ;  to  wit,  domestic  affliction 
arising  from  the  conduct  of  a  cruel  and  unfaithful 
husband,  he  suggested  that  it  might  be  well  to  open 
the  meeting  with  prayer.  But  the  more  practical 
lady  assured  him  that  this  was  a  case  past  praying 
for,  and  insisted  on  proceeding  to  business. 

Apart  from  topics  connected  with  the  "infernal 
Institution,"  the  Doctor  was  a  consistent  practi- 
tioner of  the  system  of  all  things  to  all  men.  Pie 
therefore  never  remonstrated  with  his  distressed 
lambs  :  he  only  sympathized  with  them.  And  when 
they  wanted  his  advice,  he  always  ascertained,  first, 
what  course  they  had  resolved  to  pursue,  and  then 
he  shaped  his  advice  conformably.  To  him,  there- 
fore, the  task  of  spiritual  or  temporal  counsel  was  the 
easiest  thing  in  the  world. 

"  My  dear  madam,"  he  ventured  to  say,  neverthe- 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHARD   ROE.  89 

less,  after  he  had  listened  to  a  tale  of  horrors  that 
astonished  the  narrator  herself,  "  yon  are  quite  snre 
that  these  charges  against  my  friend,  the  doctor,  are 
correct?"  And  he  paused,  somewhat  alarmed  lest  he 
had  said  too  much  in  favor  of  the  absent  friend.  But 
his  extreme  freedom  of  speech  had  neither  offended 
nor  shaken  the  fair  calumniator. 

"  Correct !"  echoed  she,  with  the  slightest  possible 
sneer :  "  if  these  things  are  not  true,  Doctor,  why  am 
I  here  to  complain  of  them  ?" 

To  be  sure.  That  was  an  unanswerable  argument. 
The  Doctor  had  not  thought  of  that,  when  he  made 
his  hasty  interrogatory 

"  Well,  Doctor,"  the  lady  continued,  "  what  do  you 
advise  me  to  do  ?" 

"  I  hardly  know,"  answered  the  Doctor,  quite  un- 
prepared for  the  direct  question,  but  clear  as  to  the 
policy  of  not  answering  it  until  he  could  get  a  clae 
to  the  lady's  intentions :  "  I  am  greatly  at  a  loss — 
this  communication  is  so  unexpected — that — a " 

"  But,  Doctor,"  interrupted  the  lady,  "  this  state  of 
things  is  intolerable.  I  am  determined  not  to  endure 
it  for  another  day." 

"  If  you  find  that  the  burden  cannot  be  borne,  my 
dear  madam,"  the  Doctor  suggested :  "  if  you  are 
quite  sure  that  your  mind  is  so  unalterably  made  up 
that  no  earthly  power  or  influence  can  have  the 
slightest  effect" — and,  he  was  about  to  add,  "  if  you 
have  counted  the  cost  of  an  open  rupture,"  for  the 
truth  is,  doctor  Jenkins  was  an  old  friend  of  Per  i  js, 
and  the  latter,  notwithstanding  his  habitual  cow,'  .  Jy 
pliancy,  was  very  near  giving  way  to  one  gem  fms 
impulse ;  but  the  lady  again  interrupted  him  : 

"  Nothing    can    shake    my    determination,"    sha 


90  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

repeated,  resolutely,  with  a  full  emphasis  on  the  first 
word. 

"  And  your  children  ?"  the  Doctor  timidly  ventured 
to  say. 

"  They  are  already  at  my  mother's  in  the  country," 
answered  the  lady,  "  and  my  own  fortune  is  ample 
for  them  and  me." 

"  You  intend,  I  presume,  to  take  legal  advice  in 
this  matter?"  pursued  the  Doctor,  still  unwilling  to 
let  everything  go  by  the  run. 

"  Certainly  I  do,"  the  lady  replied,  "  otherwise  I 
should  have  that  man  pursuing  me :  not  because  he 
cares  for  me,"  she  added,  trying  to  inculcate  a  whim- 
per for  Perkins's  benefit,  "  but  only  for  revenge." 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  mean  to  take  legal  advice," 
said  the  Doctor  ;  "  in  a  step  of  such  importance,  it  is 
essential  to  be  sure  of  your  ground." 

"  To  be  sure  it  is,"  said  the  lady,  rising  to  go.  "  I 
have  now  had  the  advantage  of  your  good  judgment, 
my  dear  Doctor,  and  I  shall  ever  be  grateful  to  yon 
for  it.  Good-bye,  Doctor." 

After  Mrs.  Jenkins  had  taken  leave,  the  Doctor 
nattered  himself  that  he  had  earned  her  thanks  at  a 
tolerably  cheap  rate.  He  was  not  altogether  at  his 
ease  about  his  ready  desertion  of  his  absent  friend 
doctor  Jenkins;  "but,"  thought  he,  ."  my  lady  will 
find  her  course  not  quite  so  clear  when  she  comes  to 
talk  with' a  lawyer.  Let  him  take  the  responsibility 
of  real  advice.  He  is  paid  for  it.  There  is  no  reason 
why  I  should  mix  myself  up  with  family  quarrels." 

The  Doctor  wisely  reserved  all  his  powers  of  inter- 
ference for  the  safer  crusade  against  the  "  infernal 
Institution." 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  Mrs.  Jenkins  derived  a 


JOHN   DOE   AND    RICHARD   ROE.  91 

large  amount  of  aid  and  comfort  from  the  interview 
with  her  pastor.  She  expected  to  find  him  strenu- 
ously opposed  to  her  project,  and  she  armed  herself 
with  arguments  to  sustain  it.  But  when  she  found 
him  readily  accepting  her  statements,  sympathizing 
with  her  wrongs,  and  at  least  negatively  assenting  to 
her  proposed  course,  she  attributed  to  the  strength 
and  equity  of  her  case  what  was  in  fact  solely  attribu- 
table to  the  Doctor's  habit  of  "  trimming :"  and 
whereas  the  Doctor's  private  judgment  utterly  dis- 
credited her  story  and  disapproved  her  action ;  she, 
nevertheless,  with  the  easy  credulity  of  those  who 
believe  what  they  wish  to  believe,  left  the  Doctor 
with  an  unhesitating  conviction  that  she  had  his  full 
sanction  and  approval  in  what  she  had  so  rashly  un- 
dertaken. 

Thus  encouraged,  therefore,  and  in  a  quarter  where 
she  least  expected  encouragement,  she  addressed  her- 
self with  great  confidence  to  the  firm  of  Rebutter, 
Surrebutter  and  Co. 

The  senior  partners  were  absent  or  engaged ;  but 
on  the  whole,  the  lady  did  not  regret  that.  Mr.  Tra- 
verse was  a  capable  and  responsible  member  of  the 
firm,  and  he  had  received  some  civilities  from  her  in 
society,  which  her  position  converted  into  obliga- 
tions. Therefore,  she  preferred  to  consult  with  Mr. 
Traverse. 

Her  rehearsal  of  her  story  to  the  reverend  Doctor, 
enabled  her  to  repeat  it  to  Traverse  with  great  facil- 
ity :  though  she  was  somewhat  surprised,  as  she  went 
on,  that  he  did  not  interrupt  her  with  exclamations 
of  astonishment,  but  sat  silent  and  unmoved  through 
the  whole  narration,  making  an  occasional  note,  how- 
ever, on  a  paper  that  lay  before  him. 


92  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   KOE. 

Traverse  was  a  rising  and  popular  young  lawyer : 
a  man  of  good  address ;  of  an  extensive  acquaint- 
ance in  society ;  and  he  was  by  no  means  unaware 
of  the  reputation  of  Mrs.  Jenkins.  That  lady's  de- 
monstrative jealousy,  both  in  town  and  at  watering- 
places,  had  long  been  a  favorite  topic  with  the 
gossips;  and,  ignorant  of  the  fact  as  was  Mrs. 
Jenkins  herself,  her  name  was  discreditably  familiar 
to  the  scandal  mongers  of  the  town.  Traverse  was 
consequently  able  to  appreciate  the  narrative  of  the 
lady  at  its  true  value,  before  she  began  it.  And  when 
it  was  finished,  he  briefly  cross-questioned  her  by  his 
minutes.  In  his  capacity  of  counsel,  he  could  easily 
press  this  examination  without  reserve,  which  he 
could  not  so  well  have  done,  had  he  been  applied  to 
as  a  friend. 

The  result  was,  that  the  finely  spun  story,  which 
ran  so  smoothly  on  the  lady's  direct  and  uninter- 
rupted recital,  became,  under  the  clear  and  logical 
investigation  of  the  shrewd  lawyer,  a  disjointed  mass 
of  improbabilities,  hardly  any  two  of  which  could 
be  reconciled  to  each  other. 

This  conclusion  became  so  palpable  to  the  lady 
herself,  that  she  voluntarily  proposed  to  go  no  further 
with  the  matter  at  present.  She  was  forced  to  see 
that,  whatever  might  be  the  facts  with  regard  to  her 
husband,  she  had  committed  a  terrible  blunder  in  pre- 
senting her  case  and  revealing  her  plans  to  Traverse ; 
and  she  made  a  merit  of  necessity  by  imploring  him 
to  keep  sacredly  confidential  what  she  had  imparted. 
Traverse  readily  bound  himself  to  the  strictest  pro- 
fessional secrecy.  But  he  took  full  advantage  of  the 
opportunity  to  administer  to  the  lady  a  lesson  of 
reproof  for  the  past,  and  solemn  warning  for  the 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  93 

future.  Nor  did  lie  altogether  spare  her  the  know- 
ledge which  she  naturally  would  be  the  last  person  to 
gain,  of  the  notoriety  already  attained  by  her  erratic 
course.  For  he  justly  deemed  it  essential  to  the 
efficacy  of  his  counsel,  that  she  should  be  made  to 
see  and  feel  the  effects,  personal  to  herself,  of  her 
recent  conduct ;  as  the  mortification  of  such  know- 
ledge-would go  far  toward  rendering  her  obstinate 
temper  more  tractable — an  obstinate  temper  being 
of  all  things  the  most  intractable,  to  ordinary  influ- 
ences. 

"  I  have  thus  shown  you,  madam,"  he  proceeded 
to  say,  '•  that  your  accusations  and  suspicions  are  un- 
doubtedly unj  ust.  But  supposing  they  were  otherwise. 
Admit  all  you  have  suspected  to  be  true.  Even  then, 
your  duties  to  yourself,  to  your  children,  and  to  soci- 
ety, should  teach  you  to  forego  the  pursuit  of  private 
vengeance  against  your  husband,  whom,  I  beg  you 
to  remember,  you  cannot  punish  separately.  What- 
ever you  inflict  on  him,  will  react  on  yourself  imme- 
diately, and  then  on  your  children.  And  how  would 
you,  in  after  years,  answer  to  them  for  injuries  totally 
irreparable,  which  you  had  brought  on  them,  in 
seeking  to  indulge  the  very  worst  of  passions  against 
their  father?" 

In  the  course  of  this  interview,  the  unfortunate 
lady  had  gone  through  the  various  stages  of  surprise, 
anger,  disappointment,  and  deep  humiliation.  Yet, 
through  all  this  conflict  of  passion,  she  could  not  but 
see  that  true  kindness  and  delicacy  had  dictated 
every  word  spoken  by  Traverse.  It  was  this  consider- 
ation which,  at  last,  completely  subdued  her.  The 
power  of  sympathy  in  social  life  is  like  the  power  of 
faith  in  religion  :  it  literally  removes  mountains.  In 


94:  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICIIAED   BOE. 

this  instance,  the  convictions  of  years  gave  way  to 
a  half  hour  of  gentle  and  intelligent  persuasion ;  the 
scales  fell  from  the  lady's  eyes,  as  if  they  had  been 
touched  by  the  finger  of  Omnipotence :  her  settled 
purposes  of  hostility  and  revenge  yielded  to  the  re- 
viving recollections  of  former  fondness ;  and  the 
wronged  husband  rose  before  the  mind  of  the  offend- 
ing wife  in  a  more  attractive  form  than  even  her 
early  fancy  had  painted  him. 

"  Believe  me,  my  dear  madam,"  said  Traverse,  in 
conclusion,  "you  have  but  to  take  one  step.  The 
first  word  of  genuine  regret,  the  first  syllable  of 
retraction,  the  first  intimation  of  a  desire  for  forgive- 
ness— pardon  me  for  suggesting  what  you  must 
understand  better  than  I  can.  And  now,  let  me  once 
more  assure  you  that  the  secret  of  this  interview  is 
safe  with  me.  I  will  see  you  to  your  carriage." 


Doctor  Jenkins  arrived  at  home  just  at  the  moment 
that  his  wife  did ;  and  he  civilly,  but  silently,  handed 
her  from  the  coach.  As  the  two  entered  the  hall, 
she  gently  took  one  of  his  hands  in  hers,  led  him 
into  the  parlor,  stopped  in  front  of  the  broken  mir- 
ror, pointed  to  its  fragments  with  her  disengaged 
hand — and  sunk  down  at  his  feet. 

"  Husband !  my  dear  husband  !"  cried  she,  "  will 
you  forgive  me  ?" 


CHAPTER  X. 

IT  NEVER   KAIN8   BUT   IT  POtJES. 

IN  the  course  of  time,  the  health  of  Richard  Roe 
was  so  far  reestablished,  that  he  resumed  his  accus- 
tomed seat  in  his  office  in  "Wall-street  Numerous 
were  the  congratulations  he  received ;  numerous  were 
the  questions  he  was  compelled  to  answer  or  evade  : 
for  although  Richard  had  his  full  share  of  ill-wishers 
and  enemies — as  what  rich  and  pious  man  has  not  ? 
yet,  nevertheless,  the  fact  that  he  possessed,  or  had 
control  of,  an  abundance  of  money,  enabled  him,  as 
it  enables  any  man,  to  command  a  certain  degree  of 
consideration  from  all  classes  of  people. 

A  sneer  at  "  the  dollar" — "  the  almighty  dollar" — 
is  a  popular  pastime :  a  pastime  that  seems  to  be  as 
congenial  to  those  who  have  the  dollar,  as  to  those 
who  haven't  it.  There  is  a  surprising  uniformity  of 
expression  on  that  subject,  whether  or  not  the  speak- 
ers are  equally  unanimous  in  their  opinions.  The 
true  philosophy  of  the  universal  custom  is  probably 
this :  that  whereas  the  rich  man  speaks  slightingly 
of  wealth,  in  order  to  impress  his  auditors  with  a 
sense  of  his  moral  and  intellectual  elevation — always 
accompanied  with  a  sly  consciousness  that  as  the 
dollar  is  actually  7iis,  he  can  take  a  liberty  with  it ; 
on  the  other  hand,  the  poor  man,  though  nominally 
taking  the  same  liberty,  mentally  aims  his  sneer  not 
at  the  dollar  itself,  but  at  its  fortunate  owner — who, 

96 


96  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

in  the  poor  speaker's  judgment,  has  nothing  else  to 
boast  of. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  the  dollar  is,  in  the  popular 
phrase,  "  almighty."  It  rules  the  roast  and  carries 
the  day,  all  the  world  over.  Englishmen,  French- 
men, or  any  foreigner,  may  superciliously  intimate 
that  the  sway  of  the  dollar  is  limited  to  those  whom 
they  indiscriminately  style  Yankees.  But  let  the 
Yankees  be  content !  The  dollar  is  of  one  weight, 
everywhere.  It  is  an  aristocrat,  and  an  autocrat  too, 
in  every  land  that  the  sun  shines  on.  Its  ring  is  as 
loud  and  as  musical  at  the  Court  of  St.  James  as  in 
the  cabin  of  St.  Jonathan. 

But,  though  Richard  Roe  enjoyed  the  benefit  of 
his  dollar  in  all  that  dollars  could  do,  he  had  his  own 
troubles.  His  bugbear  was  not  a  sham  bear.  His 
sword  of  Damocles  was  not  a  sword  of  lath.  Wilson 
hung  over  his  head  by  night  and  by  day,  suspended 
by  a  hair.  How  long  that  hair  was  likely  to  hold, 
became  a  paramount  question. 

A  rope  may  be  examined,  and  the  giving  way  of 
a  fibre  may  be  detected  by  a  careful  investigator. 
And  since  a  rope  breaks  by  degrees,  the  condition  of 
danger  which  is  identical  with  its  rupture,  can  be 
watched,  calculated  and  guarded  against.  But  a  hair, 
being  a  single  fibre,  snaps  in  a  jifty.  In  comparison 
with  a  hair,  a  rope  is  a  friendly  tissue.  It  gives 
warning.  And  that's  the  reason  why  Richard  Roe 
would  have  preferred  that  Wilson,  just  now,  was 
hanging  by  a  rope  instead  of  a  hair  ! 

Then,  Roe  had  other  troubles.  His  family  matters 
were  ajar.  He  lost  his  first  wife  when  his  daughter 
and*  only  child,  Margaret,  was  nineteen.  If  for  nc 
better  reason  than  his  well-known  devotion  to  appear- 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   HOE.  97 

ances,  Roe  found  a  second  wife  indispensable.  And 
although  he  may  have  had  good  reason  for  seeking  a" 
second  wife  of  a  fitting  description,  none  of  his  friends 
were  able  to  justify  the  choice  he  actually  made. 
.True,  he  gave  a-  reason,  as  he  did  for  everything  that 
he  felt  needed  a  reason :  but  he  seldom  gave  a  true 
one,  and  almost  never  a  good  one.  His  explanation 
of  making  a  new  Mrs.  Roe  of  a  splendid  young  woman 
of  twenty,  was  that  his  daughter  needed  a  companion 
instead  of  a  step-mother.  Unfortunately  for  all  the 
parties  in  interest,  the  new  Mrs.  Roe,  soon  after 
she  became  Mrs.  Roe,  entertained  a  very  different 
opinion. 

Again,  the  good  Roe  was  subjected  to  petty 
annoyances  by  exacting  and  unreasonable  custom- 
ers. He  had  hardly  resumed  his  daily  avocations, 
after  his  illness,  when  he  compulsorily  held  a  levee 
of  these  people.  Briggs,  a  capitalist  from  Boston, 
came  first. 

"  Roe,  how  d'ye  do  ?"  he  commenced.  "  I've  come 
on  to  see  about  the  July  interest  of  those  Catawam- 
pus  bonds.  You  wouldn't  answer  my  letters,  and  I'll 
see,  now,  whether  you'll  answer  my  questions." 

"  My  dear  Briggs,"  replied  Roe,  "  I  am  very  much 
disappointed  about  those  bonds.  I  feel  much  worse 
about  them  than  you  do.  I  feel" 

"  Oh,  damn  your  feelings !"  interrupted  Briggs. 
"  I  want  my  money." 

"  My  dear  Briggs,  don't  swear !"  entreated  the 
banker ;  "  that  hurts  me  worse  than  the  money." 

"  See  here,  Roe,"  continued  Briggs,  "  I  have  come 
to  talk  business ;  and  I  beg  you'll  postpone  your 
hurts  and  your  feelings.  I  bought  those  bonds' on 
your  very  strong  representations,  without,  myself, 

5 


98  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   EOE. 

making  any  inquiry.  I  now  hear  a  rumor  that  the 
company  propose  to  fund  the  coupons,  and  I  want 
to  know  what  course  you  intend  to  take  with 
yours." 

"  Why,  the  fact  is,"  said  Koe,  reddening  a  little  in 
the  face,  "  I  have  sold  out." 

"  Sold  out !  and  without  letting  me  know !"  cried 
Briggs.  "  When  did  you  sell  ?" 

"  In  April,"  stammered  Roe ;  " I — the  fact  is" 

"  In  April !"  cried  Briggs ;  "  in  April,  when  they 
were  worth  95  per  cent.,  and  when  you  advised  me 
not  to  sell !  By  G — ,  sir,  do  you  happen  to  remem- 
ber that  the  sole  condition  on  which  I  bought  these 
bonds  of  you  was,  that  if  for  any  reason  you  changed 
your  mind  as  to  their  value  and  concluded  to  sell,  you 
would  give  me  full  notice  ?" 

"  My  dear  Briggs,"  replied  Roe,  "  it  was  owing  to 
an  accident.  Burns  of  Albany  wrote  me  in  April  to 
sell  his  bonds  and  said  he  would  forward  them  by  the 
next  day's  express.  I  made  the  sale :  and  as  the  pur- 
chaser insisted  on  immediate  delivery  as  his  condition, 
I  gave  him  my  bonds.  In  the  afternoon,  I  received 
a  telegram  from  Burns  countermanding  his  order; 
and  there  was  I,  stuck." 

"  Stuck,  indeed  !"  echoed  Briggs  ;  u  stuck,  by  get- 
ting out  of  a  concern  into  which  you  had  wheedled 
forty  people  and  made  thousands  of  dollars  out  of 
every  one  of  them.  The  short  of  the  matter  is,  '  my 
dear '  Roe,  that  you  have  cheated  me.  Even  if  your 
Burns  story  is  true — though  I  don't  believe  a  word 
of  it — you  were  bound  to  give  me  the  promised  notice 
of  selling  out.  You  are  an  infernal  scoundrel,  and  I 
will  so  proclaim  you,  through  Wall-street." 

And,  exit  Briggs. 


JOHN   DOE    AND   EICHAED   EOE.  99 

Mr.  Roe's  feelings  were  deeply  wounded,  not  at 
Briggs's  abuse — that  the  good  man  could  despise — but 
at  his  profanity.  Profanity  "  hurt "  Roe  worse  than 
anything  :  and  he  had  not  more  than  half  recovered 
from  the  wounds  produced  by  that  wicked  man's 
swearing,  when  the  reverend  Mr.  Steele,  from  the 
rural  districts,  came  in. 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Steele,"  stid  Roe,  "  how  do  you  do  ? 
How's  your  wife  ?  and  Fred  ?  and  Betsey  ?  and  all 
the  little  onesf-' 

He  huddled  his  questions  on  the  poor  parson,  as  if 
he  would  deprive  the  man  of  making  any  inquiries 
himself.  But  that  couldn't  last  long. 

"  Mr.  Roe,"  replied  the  clergyman,  without  taking 
any  notice  of  Roe's  questions,  "  I  have  at  much  incon- 
venience come  down  to  New- York  to  get  from  you  in 
person  some  information  which  I  have  failed  to 
obtain  from  you  by  correspondence." 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Steele,"  began  Roe,  reproachfully — 

But  Mr.  Steele  went  on. 

"  My  family  are  suifering,  Mr.  Roe,"  he  said,  "  for 
want  of  the  July  interest  on  those  Balderdash  bonds. 
The  coupons  were  returned  to  me,  and  I  wish  to 
know  what  is  the  matter." 

"My  dear  Mr.  Steele,"  replied  Roe,  sympathiz- 
ingly,  "  that  Company  has  failed." 

"  Failed  !"  shrieked  the  poor  clergyman :  "  why, 
Mr.  Roe,  you  told  me  those  bonds  were  as  good  as 
wheat." 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Steele,"  continued  Roe,  for  he  "my 
deared"  everybody  whom  he  victimized,  "I  thought 
they  were." 

"  But,  sir,"  persisted  Mr.  Steele,  "  what  am  I  to 
do  ?  You  well  know  that  those  bonds  were  purchased 


100  JOHN    DOE   AND   EICHARD    EOE. 

partly  with  my  wife's  inheritance  and  the  remainder 
from  my  own  hard  earned  savings ;  and  that  the  sum 
total,  ten  thousand  dollars,  is  all  my  living,  since 
ill-heal tli  forced  me  to  give  up  my  profession." 

u  Pray,  don't  speak  of  it,  my  dear  Mr.  Steele !" 
said  Roe.  "  I  feel  much  worse  about  it  than  you  do." 

"  Mr.  Roe,"  replied  the  clergyman,  with  some 
severity,  "  I  have  heard  you  make  that  remark  to 
other  people,  and  I  would  like  to  know  what  you 
mean  by  it.  You  feel  worse  than  /  do,  when  I  am 
in  poverty  and  you  are  a  man  of  wealth  !  But  this  is 
trifling.  Let  me  know  at  once  what  course  you  pro- 
pose to  take  with  your  own  bonds,  and  I  may  then 
judge  what  to  do  with  mine." 

"  Why,"  answered  Roe,  "  the  fact  is,  my  dear  Mr. 
Steele,  I  sold  out  my  bonds  in  April." 

"  You  sold  out,  sir  !  and  left  me  to  be  ruined  by 
holding  on !"  cried  Mr.  Steele. 

"  It  was  the  result  of  a  mistake,  my  dear  Mr. 
Steele,"  replied  Roe.  "  Mr.  Burns,  of  Albany,  wrote 
me  to  sell  his  bonds  and  promised  to  send  them  to 
me  by  express.  I  made  the  sale,  and,  to  oblige  the 
purchaser,  delivered  my  bonds  ad  interim.  The 
next  day  he  countermanded  the  order ;  but  my  bonds 
were  gone." 

"  And  pray,  sir,"  inquired  Mr.  Steele,  "  how  could 
you  fail  to  notify  me,  and  at  least  give  me  the  option 
of  parting  with  securities,  which  your  volunteered 
recommendation  induced  me  to  purchase  ?  But  at 
any  rate,  you  must  make  them  good  to  me.  The 
amount,  trifling  for  you,  is  to  me  absolute  ruin." 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Steele !"  exclaimed  Roe :  "  you 
cannot  expect  me  to  do  that !" 

"  I  ask  it,  and  demand  it,"  said  the  clergyman  reso 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAiRD   ROE.  101 

lutely.  "  You  knew  that  I  had  that  money  invested 
in  a  safe  mortgage :  you  wrote  me  to  sell  the  mort- 
gage and  send  you  the  money,  to  be  more  profitably 
invested.  I  knew  nothing  of  the  bonds  you  proposed 
to  buy ;  I  trusted  you ;  and  you  have  ruined  me. 
And  if  you  refuse  to  make  good  to  me  what  is  lost, 
my  curse  and  the  curse  of  my  family  shall  rest  on 
you !" 

Mr.  Steele  withdrew.  And  Roe  took  down  a  dic- 
tionary, to  ascertain  whether  the  use  of  the  word 
"  curse  "  could  be  construed  into  profane  swearing. 
Next  to  the  sin  of  slavery,  Roe  considered  swearing 
the  thing  unpardonable.  And  the  pain  he  endured 
in  hearing  men  swear,  was  one  of  his  greatest  com- 
forts. It  was  his  way  of  suffering  for  righteousness' 
sake.  And  in  this  case,  if  he  could  but  manage  to 
get  his  feelings  hurt  by  Mr.  Steele's  profanity,  he  felt 
that  his  feelings  would  be  greatly  relieved.  He  had 
not,  however,  got  beyond  CON  in  his  dictionary 
research  for  "  curse,"  when  Mr.  Burton  made  his 
appearance. 

Mr.  Burton  was  a  foreigner.  He  came  to  America 
about  a  year  previously  with  his  family,  his  worldly 
goods,  and  fifteen  thousand  dollars  in  gold  ;  which 
latter  commodity,  by  virtue  of  an  introductory  letter, 
he  had  the  good  luck  to  deposit  with  Roe  for  invest- 
ment. Roe,  with  his  usual  urbanity,  undertook  to 
do  a  good  thing  for  Mr.  Burton.  He  advanced  him 
a  small  sum  by  way  of  anticipated  interest ;  and 
soon  after  informed  him  that  he,  Roe,  had  managed 
to  reserve  for  him,  Burton,  a  fat  slice  of  the  Tusca- 
rora  convertibles,  paying  ten  per  cent,  per  annum 
interest,  at  the  dog-cheap  price  of  ninety-five  on  the 
hundred.  This  gave  Mr.  Burton  an  income  of  one 


102  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   ROE. 

thousand  five  hundred  dollars,  a  funded  capital  of 
fifteen  thousand  dollars,  and  a  surplus  in  hand  of 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  The  agreeable  in- 
telligence was  communicated  to  Mr.  Burton  at  Roe's 
dinner-table,  after  the  ladies  had  withdrawn.  Roe 
having  thrown  in  a  modicum  of  significant  smiles 
and  hems,  unfolded  the  tale  of  happiness  and  magni- 
ficently tossed  down  on  the  red  cloth  a  cheque  for 
the  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  less  the  small 
amount  previously  advanced  to  Mr.  Burton.  He 
had  not  even  charged  Mr.  Burton  a  commission  for 
doing  the  business!  Burton  was  so  elated  that  he 
made  a  straight  wake  through  an  extra  bottle  of 
green  seal. 

In  the  month  of  January  thence  ensuing,  Burton 
was  made  glad  by  another  cheque  for  seven  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars,  being  six  months'  interest  on  the 
Tuscaroras.  But  in  the  following  July,  there  came 
a  hitch.  A  delay.  A  disappointment.  Nothing 
permanent,  of  course.  Tuscarora  would  never  say 
die.  Still,  it  was  disagreeable.  Days  rolled  on,  as 
they  always  will  do,  Tuscarora  or  no  Tuscarora. 
They  became  weeks.  They  strongly  resembled 
months.  And  still  no  funds!  A  rumor  of  failure 
began  to  perambulate. 

Things  were  at  this  pass,  when  Mr.  Burton  called 
on  Mr.  Roe,  as  aforesaid.  Mr.  Burton  had  heard  the 
rumor,  and  his  cheeks  were  slightly  blanched  as  he 
inquired  what  it  meant  ? 

"  I  really  don't  know  what  to  think  of  it,"  said  Roe. 
"  At  any  rate,  it's  only  temporary." 

"  Ah,"  said  Burton,  much  relieved,  "  then  you  can 
advance  the  money  on  these  coupons  ?" 

"  That's  a  thing  I  never  do,"  replied  Roe,  magiste- 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  103 

rially,  and  as  if  sucli  a  thing  were  sinful.  "  Holders 
must  wait." 

"  It  is  easy  to  say  that,  Mr.  Roe,"  Burton  replied  : 
"  but  this  interest  is  my  entire  income,  and  I  may 
wait  till  my  family  "• — his  voice  trembled  as  the  con- 
sequence rose  to  his  mind — "  till  my  family  want  /" 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Burton,"  replied  Roe,  "  don't  give 
way  to  that  sort  of  thing.  I  assure  you,  my  dear 
friend,  I  feel  much  worse  than  you  do  about  it." 
Roe  was  a  kind-hearted  man.  He  always  felt  much 
worse  than  his  swindled  customers. 

"If  you  feel  so  much  for  my  predicament,"  re- 
joined Burton,  "  have  the  goodness  to  relieve  me  by 
giving  me  the  money  for  these  coupons;  or,"  he 
added,  with  a  natural  suspicion  as  to  the  security  of 
the  whole  transaction,  "  restore  to  me  my  principal 
and  let  me  dispose  of  it  elsewhere." 

"  I  can  do  neither  of  those  things,  Mr.  Burton," 
said  Roe. 

"Then,  sir,"  Burton  continued  in  alarm,  "make 
an  immediate  sale  of  my  bonds  and  let  me  know  the 
worst." 

"  Just  at  present,"  Roe  answered,  "  they  cannot  be 
sold  at  any  price." 

"What  do  you  propose,  then,  to  do  with  your  own 
bonds  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Burton. 

"  I  should  hold  them  by  all  means,"  said  Roe  ; 
"  that  is, — if  I  had  any." 

"  If  you  had  any !"  echoed  Mr.  Burton.  "  You 
told  me  you  had  fifty  thousand  dollars  of  them." 

"  I  had,  at  one  time,  my  dear  friend,"  answered 
Roe :  "  but  I  sold  out  in  April." 

"  Good  God,  sir !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Burton,  striding 
up  to  Roe  with  an  air  that  might  easily  have  been 


104  JOHN   DOE   AND    RICHARD   ROE. 

mistaken  for  a  menacing  air,  "  you  have  sold  out,  and 
left  me  in  ?  Do  you  tell  me  that,  sir  ?" 

"My  dear  Mr.  Burton,"  cried  Roe,  "be  calm. 
Pray  be  calm !  It  was  the  merest  accident  in  the 
world.  Mr.  Burns,  of  Albany,  wrote  me  to  sell  his 
bonds,  and  promised  to  send  them  by  express,  the 
next  day.  I  made  the  sale ;  and,  to  accommodate 
the  purchaser,  delivered  my  own  bonds.  In  the  after- 
noon, I  received  a  telegram  countermanding  the  order 
to  sell :  but  my  bonds  were  gone." 

"  Mr.  Roe,"  said  Burton,  "  I  came  to  you  in  confi- 
dence. I  trusted  you,  as  I  would  have  trusted  a 
brother.  I  placed  all  my  property  in  your  hands 
and  left  you  to  manage  it,  without  asking  a  question. 
You  bought  for  me  bonds  which  you  said  were 
good ;  proving  your  opinion  by  an  assurance  that 
you  held  a  large  amount  of  them,  and  securing  mine, 
as  it  were,  by  promising  to  sell  mine  if  you  ever 
found  occasion  to  sell  yours.  You  have,  neverthe- 
less, deliberately  deceived  me.  Will  you,  sir,  give 
me  ten  cents  on  the  dollar  for  those  bonds,  namely 
fifteen  hundred  dollars  for  my  fifteen  thousand  ?" 

Mr.  Roe  could  by  no  means  permit  his  dear  friend 
Mr.  Burton  to  make  such  a  sacrifice :  but  he  would 
lend  Mr.  Burton  five  hundred  dollars  on  the  deposit 
of  the  fifteen  thousand  of  bonds  as  collateral  security 
— conditioned  that  the  bonds  should  be  forfeited  to 
Roe,  if  the  loan  was  not  repaid  in  twenty  days. 

There  needed  but  this !  Mr.  Burton  had  recently 
heard  that  Roe  had  accumulated  a  fortune  by  pur- 
chasing large  amounts  of  worthless  western  bonds,  at 
low  prices,  and  palming  them  off  on  confiding  friends 
and  customers,  at  par.  He  now  believed  the  story. 

"  Mr.  Roe,"  said  he,  "you  are  the  villain  that  you 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  105 

have  been  represented  to  be.  And  may  that  God 
whose  laws  you  have  outraged  bring  you  to  poverty 
and  disgrace,  and  that  right  speedily  !" 

It  was  a  great  comfort  to  Mr.  Roe  that  Mr.  Burton 
had  sworn  one  round  oath  in  the  course  of  this  inter- 
view. And  that  wasn't  all.  He  had  imprecated 
vengeance  from  above  on  Roe's  head.  Roe,  there- 
fore was  doubly  comforted. 

No  sooner  was  Mr.  Burton  gone,  than  Mr.  Some- 
body else  came  in,  on  a  similar  errand ;  and  the  num- 
ber of  this  class  of  troublesome,  captious,  complain- 
ing customers  exceeded  a  score  before  the  morning 
was  ended.  So  great  a  number,  all  in  one  day, 
forced  Richard  Roe  to  remark — "  It  never  rains  but 
it  pours." 

True :  but  Roe  was  equal  to  the  emergency.  He 
didn't  break  down.  He  took  comfort  in  persecution. 
He  knew  that  blessed  are  the  persecuted — or  some- 
thing of  that  kind.  Besides,  he  had  that  morning 
made  several  capital  hits  in  family  prayer,  and  his 
fund  of  grace  on  hand  was  unusually  large.  More- 
over, having  been  persecuted,  he  was  now  about  to 
have  a  chance  to  persecute  in  turn.  He  had  suffered 
some  at  the  hands  of  Paul  and  he  would  avenge  him- 
self by  paying  off  Peter. 

Mr.  Hicks  came  in,  with  an  embarrassed  air. 
"  Mr.  Roe,"  said  he,  "  I  received  your  letter — 
and " 

"  And,"  interrupted  Roe,  sternly,  "  you  waited  till 
a  quarter  past  three  before  you  replied  to  it." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  sir,"  Hicks  began  again 

"  Does  your  sorrow  pay  that  note,  sir  ?"  again 
interrupted  Roe,  looking  as  solemn  as  if  he  really 
"  asked,  for  information." 

5* 


106  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

"  Mr.  Roe,  don't  be  hard  on  me  !"  entreated  poor 
Hicks.  "  I  have  already  made  great  sacrifices  to 
keep  down  the  interest  on  that  loan.  Pray  remem- 
ber, sir,  that  within  six  months,  I  have  actually  paid 
you  forty-two  per  cent.,  all  for  interest,  and  you 
know,  Mr.  Roe,  that  the  security  you  hold  is  ample." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  the  kind,"  retorted  Roe, 
peremptorily. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Roe,  only  consider,"  said  Hicks,  who 
had  relapsed  into  a  mental  calculation  and  lost  Roe's 
last  remark  ;  "  that  is  at  the  rate  of  eighty-four  per 
cent,  a  year  for  the  use  of  money ;  and  you,  Mr.  Roe, 
a  Christian  man !  Why,  sir,  it  is  usury,  and  ruin. 
The  Bible  says " 

"  Do  you  come  here,  sir,  to  tell  me  what  the  Bible 
says  ?"  interrupted  Roe  in  a  voice  of  thunder ;  "  and 
to  talk  to  me  about  usury  ?  Doesn't  your  Bible  tell 
you  to  owe  no  man  anything  ?  and  don't  you  owe  me 
ten  thousand  dollars  ?  Didn't  our  blessed  Saviour 
cast  into  outer  darkness  the  man  who  owed  him  one 
talent,  because  the  debtor  wouldn't  pay  him  his  own 
with  usury  ?  and  do  you  talk  to  me  about  usury  ? 
Besides,  isn't  a  bargain  a  bargain  ?  Didn't  you 
come  to  me  for  the  ten  thousand  dollars  when  it  and 
nothing  but  it,  would  save  you  from  bankruptcy  ? 
and  didn't  you  agree  to  pay — yes,  offer  to  pay  any 
rate  of  interest  ?  and  didn't  you  promise  to  take  up 
the  loan  at  the  end  of  the  month  ?  And  do  you  now 
come  here  to  talk  '  Bible  '  to  me  ?" 

"  But,  Mr.  Roe,"  gasped  Hicks,  perfectly  over- 
whelmed by  such  a  torrent   of  interrogatories,   "  I 
have  paid  the  interest  and  you  hold  ample  security." 
"  I    tell    you    again,"   thundered    Roe,   "  I   hold 
nothing  of  the  sort." 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   ROE.  107 

""Why,  Mr.  Roe !"  exclaimed  Hicks,  "you  hold 
fourteen  thousand  dollars  of  those  Erie  Bonds  which 
were  never  until  just  now  sold  at  less  than  seventy 
per  cent." 

"  Read  my  letter  again  !"  replied  Roe  with  a  sneer 
that  made  Hicks  tremble. 

Hicks  drew  the  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  re- 
marked with  a  faltering  voice  "  you  say  here,  Mr. 
Roe,  that  you  will  sell  those  bonds  at  any  price  they 
will  bring,  if  the  loan  is  not  paid  before  three  o'clock. 
But,  sir,  I  was  called  home  by  the  sudden  illness  of 
my  wife  and  I  sent  you  word  that  I  would  call  very 
soon  after  three  ;  as  I  have  done." 

"  And  you  thought,  I  suppose,"  continued  Roe, 
"that  after  I  had  sent  you  my  solemn  promise  in 
writing  as  to  what  I  would  do,  that  I  would  delibe- 
rately break  that  promise  and  not  sell  the  bonds,  just 
because  your  wife  is  sick  ?  What's  your  wife  to  me, 
sir  !  And  what  business  have  you  with  a  wife,  when 
you  can't  pay  your  debts  ?" 

"  But,  Mr.  Roe,"  cried  Hicks,  regardless  of  Roe's 
brutality,  "  I  trust,  nevertheless,  that  you  have  not 
sold  them  at  their  present  depressed  price  ?  They 
have  been  sold  within  a  day  or  two  as  low  as  sixty- 
five." 

'•  They  have  been  sold  to-day  at  fifty"  replied 
Roe :  "  at  least,  I  can  answer  for  one  sale  at  that 
price — a  little  lot  of  fourteen  bonds  that  I  held  as 
collateral.  They  produced  seven  thousand  dollars, 
and  I  hold  you  for  three  thousand  dollars,  balance 
due  on  your  note." 

Poor  Hicks  said  not  one  word  ;  but,  dizzy  and 
faint  with  the  shock  of  such  intelligence,  he  grasped 
at  a  chair  :  and,  missing  it,  he  fell  heavily  to  the  floor 


108  JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

"  Mr.  Jackson,"  said  Roe,  in  the  mildest  of  tones, 
"  I  am  going  home  to  an  early  dinner.  Will  you  see 
to  Hicks  ?  I  believe  he  hurt  himself  against  a  chair." 
And  Roe  hurried  home,  where  he  delivered  an 
admirable  Grace  before  Meat. 

A  disinterested  spectator  of  this  morning's  inci- 
dents might  have  remarked,  "  What  an  unutterable 
villain  that  fellow  is  !" 

But  the  subject  of  that  insinuation  would  have 
rejoined — "  Sir,  I  am  Richard  Roe,  banker  and 
church  member."  And,  if  that  magisterial  announce- 
ment failed  to  demolish  the  caviller,  Roe  would  per- 
haps have  added, 

"  Sir,  don't  measure  my  corn  in  your  bushel.  I 
am  not  as  other  men  are,  extortioners  and  so  forth  : 
no,  sir  !  nor  as  these  complaining  publicans.  I  fast. 
I  pay  tithes.  I  do  many  things." 

At  Roe's  request,  Mr.  Jackson  "  saw  to  Mr. 
Hicks;"  and  found  him  in  a  state  resembling  the 
stupor  of  apoplexy ;  from  which,  however,  the  unfor- 
tunate man  revived  under  the  prompt  attention  of 
Jackson. 

Jackson  was  Roe's  confidential  and  head  clerk  : 
he  was  Wilson's  immediate  successor.  He  had  seen 
the  progress  of  this  affair  with  Hicks  and  endeavored 
to.  dissuade  him  from  continuing  the  loan  on  such 
terms.  But  Hicks  was  a  vacillating  man,  and  he 
kept  on  from  week  to  week  hoping  for  "  a  favorable 
turn"  in  his  business  or  in  the  times,  until  the  present 
disaster  overtook  him.  Jackson  had  gone  through  a 
hardening  process  in  Roe's  service,  but  he  had  many 
good  qualities  that  yet  survived ;  and  he  could  not 
be  aware  of  the  details  of  the  late  scene,  which  he 
partly  overheard,  without  deep  resentment  agains| 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAJRD   ROE.  109 

Koe  :  especially,  when  he  considered  the  facts  of  the 
loan  to  Hicks. 

On  the  day  the  loan  was  made,  the  bonds  were 
worth  eighty,  in  the  market,  and  Roe  actually  sold 
them  for  cash,  thus  placing  himself  in  funds  from 
Hicks's  own  property  to  the  amount  of  more  than 
eleven  thousand  dollars,  and  taking  the  risk  of  buy- 
ing the  bonds  back  again  when  the  loan  should  be 
returned.  Out  of  this  sum,  he  then  lent  Hicks  ten 
thousand  dollars  at  seven  per  cent,  a  month ;  and 
retained  in  his  own  hands  more  than  one  thousand 
dollars  of  Hicks's  own  money.  At  the  end  of  the 
six  months,  he  had  received  from  Hicks  no  less  than 
four  thousand  two  hundred  dollars  of  usurious  inter- 
est. Then,  by  falsely  pretending  to  have  sold  the 
bonds  at  fifty  per  cent.,  he  brought  Hicks  three 
thousand  dollars  in  debt,  over  and  above  his  loss  of 
the  bonds  and  of  the  interest  he  had  paid  on  the 
loan.  As  Hicks  originally  bought  the  bonds  at  par, 
his  actual  loss  exceeded  eleven  thousand  dollars,  of 
which  nearly  one  half  was  pocketed  in  cash  by  Roe. 


CHAPTER  XL 

A     KOD     IN     PICKLE. 

IT  was  clear  to  the  mind  of  John  Doe,  that  Wil- 
son's escape  from  prison  had  been  aided  and  abetted 
by  Richard  Roe.  What  Roe's  motive  could  be,  was 
another  question.  And  still  another  and  much  more 
important  question,  was  how  could  the  motive  be  dis- 
covered ?  Perhaps  the  affair  was  not  John  Doe's 
affair.  Perhaps  the  affair,  whosesoever  it  might  be, 
was  not,  to  John  Doe,  worth  the  trouble  of  investiga- 
tion. But  John  Doe,  as  the  brother  and  representa- 
tive of  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Peters,  had  brought  against 
Richard  Roe  a  suit  at  law  for  the  recovery  of  a  large 
sum  of  money,  alleged  to  have  been  fraudulently 
appropriated  by  Roe  from  the  property  of  Joseph 
Peters,  deceased,  formerly  a  partner  of  Roe  and  hus- 
band of  the  aforesaid  Elizabeth  Peters. 

That  Roe  had  in  fact  largely  defrauded  the  widow 
of  his  late  partner,  was  fully  believed  by  the  widow 
herself  and  by  all  her  relatives.  Moreover,  a  certain 
amount  of  proof  could  be  produced,  which  at  least 
sufficed  to  justify  very  grave  suspicions  of  Roe's 
honesty  in  the  premises ;  and  certain  notorious  facts 
in  regard  to  Roe's  position  went  far  toward  corrobo- 
rating what  was  believed  and  what  was  suspected. 
But  the  facility  with  which  a  cunning  man  can  prac- 
tise frauds  on  the  property  of  a  decased  partner,  and 

afterward,  by  secreting  or  destroying  the  books  and 
no 


JOHN   DOE   AND    KICHAKD   EOE.  Ill 

papers,  obliterate  the  proof  of  such  fraud,  renders  the 
existence  of  fraud  entirely  compatible  with  the  ina- 
bility of  a  claimant  to  substantiate  it. 

Hence,  in  the  action  of  John  Doe  against  Richard 
Roe,  the  absence,  hitherto,  of  conclusive  evidence  in 
the  plaintiff's  favor,  by  no  means  established  his 
want  of  a  ground  of  action,  or  his  inability  to  recover 
on  it.  Indeed,  as  the  case  now  stood,  if  a  jury  could 
be  made  to  believe  what  the  plaintiff  and  his  friends 
believed,  a  verdict  in  the  plaintiff's  favor  was  inevit- 
ble^  But  that  if  was  the  rub. 

In  this  condition  of  things,  Doe  felt  himself  jus- 
tified in  seeking  proof  of  Roe's  rascality  outside  of  his 
own  case ;  because,  however  irrelevant  to  Doe  versus 
Roe  such  facts  might  be,  they  would  perhaps  enable 
Doe  to  coerce  Roe  into  a  fair  exhibit  and  settlement 
of  the  contested  accounts,  under  a  threat  of  exposure 
in  new  matter  to-be-discovered.  That,  therefore,  was 
the  ground  of  Doe's  interest  in  Wilson's  escape ;  or 
rather,  in  Roe's  agency  in  that  escape. 

The  facts  already  ascertained  by  Doe,  in  that  mat- 
ter, were  communicated  to  Traverse,  as  one  of  his 
counsel ;  and  after  a  full  consultation,  the  two  con- 
cluded to  employ  a  detective  to  ascertain  the  where- 
about of  Wilson,  if  such  information  were  attainable. 

Mr.  Snap  was  a  prompt,  shrewd,  indefatigable  offi- 
cer. A  man,  too,  of  large  experience  in  the  detective 
branch  of  police  business.  He  had  not  previously 
given  much  attention  to  this  case.  He  had  read  the 
newspaper  accounts ;  thought  too  much  had  been 
published  on  the  subject ;  doubted  whether  a  suffi- 
cient reward  had  been  offered,  and  whether  much 
real  vigilance  had  been  exercised.  Was,  neverthe- 
less, surprised  that  no  trace  of  the  man  had  beec 


112  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   EOE. 

found.  And,  considering  that  no  such  trace  had  been 
hit  upon,  and  that  nothing  which  could  be  relied  on 
had  been  heard  of  the  fugitive  in  any  direction,  he'd 

be  d (begging  the  gentleman's  pardon  !  that  was 

the  style  of  so  many  men  that  Snap  came  in  contact 
with !)  he'd  be  hanged  if  lie  didn't  believe  that  the 
fellow  had  never  left  the  city  at  all. 

"  That,"  said  Doe,  "  would  be  good  news." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  returned  Snap.  "I  would 
rather  follow  a  man  over  half  the  railroads  and 
steamboats  in  the  country,  than  through  the  holes 
and  corners  of  New- York.  But  we'll  see.  Is  this 
a  matter  of  public  business,  Mr.  Doe  ?" 

"  Private  entirely,"  answered  Doe,  "  and  it  must 
be  kept  so.  I  would  prefer  that  you  undertake  it 
exclusively  by  yourself.  And  as  for  the  reward, 
which  you  think  the  authorities  offered  on  a  small 
scale,  I  will  say  at  once  that  if  you  find  Wilson  and 
put  me  in  communication  with  him,  you  may  name 
your  own  price  for  your  services." 

"  That's  very  liberal,  sir,"  said  Snap ;  "  very  hand- 
some indeed :  but,  sir,  it's  a  little  uncertain.  We  like 
a  fixed  sum.  And  then,  for  instance,  suppose  after  a 
long  look  and  time  and  expenses  lost, — suppose  I 
don't  find  him  ?  I  don't  wish  to  be  unreasonable, 
sir  ;  nor  sharp  at  a  bargain ;  but  business  is  busi- 
ness." 

"You  are  perfectly  right,  Snap,"  Doe  replied^ 
"  and  I  like  you  the  better  for  being  explicit.  I  will 
pay  you  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for  the  search 
without  the  man  :  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  more 
for  the  man :  and  if  in  your  own  judgment,  at  the 
end,  the  labor  and  trouble  are  worth  another  two 
hundred  and  fifty,  you  shall  have  it." 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   KOE.  113 

"That's  the  talk,  .sir,  and  'done'  is  the  word," 
replied  Snap.  "  If  Wilson  is  anywheres  between  the 
two  rivers,  I'm  down  on  him.  But  I  don't  yet 
know  the  man.  Can  you  describe  him  ?" 

Doe  and  Traverse  both  tried  a  hand  at  descrip- 
tion, but  they  found  it  not  easy  to  convey  their 
knowledge  intelligibly.  Doe,  however,  thought  Wil- 
son could  almost  certainly  be  recognized  by  the 
peculiarity  of  his  beard.  He  knew  but  one  other 
man  who  wore  his  whiskers* in  that  style:  to  wit, 
.Richard  Roe. 

"  Not  too  fast,  sir,  if  you  please,"  rejoined  Snap. 
"  You  may  bet  high  that  Wilson's  hair  and  whiskers 
are  among  the  missing.  He's  not  an  old  hand  at 
dodges,  but  he's  sharp  enough  for  that,  anyhow.  His 
clothes,  too,  won't  be  like  anything  you've  ever  seen 
him  wear." 

And  Snap  went  on  to  say  that  they  had  him  in  the 
Rogue's  Gallery,  sure.  He  could  see  his  likeness 
there,  and  could  get  a  copy :  and  if  the  man  who 
took  it  could  only  play  barber  by  shearing  and 
shaving  the  picture,  he  would  have  him,  beautiful. 

The  fact  that  Wilson  was  not  an  old  hand,  would 
insure  his  not  being  hid  in  any  of  the  regular  beats. 
There  was  so  much  ground  as  good  as  examined,  to 
start  with.  Then,  the  man  can't  keep  all  the  time 
shut  up.  He  must  have  his  exercise.  He  will  be 
walking  out,  evenings:  'specially  rainy  evenings. 
This  search  was  to  be  a  matter  of  umbrellas,  most 
likely.  And  shoe-leather,  anyhow.  And  eyes. 

"  As  to  the  Rogue's  Gallery,  gentlemen,"  Snap 
proceeded,  for  like  many  other  men  he  was  loqua- 
cious on  points  where  he  was  strong,  "  I  have  often 
told  them  at  the  office  that  they  should  take  a  back 


114:  JOHN   DOE    AND    KICHAKD   EOE. 

view  of  a  man  as  well  as  a  front.  Don't  you  know, 
sir,"  turning  to  Traverse,  who  seemed  to,  catch  this 
idea  more  readily  than  Doe,  "  you  see  a  friend  ahead 
of  you  in  the  street,  and  you  can  tell  him  by  his  back, 
sure  ?  Whether  it's  the  shape  of  his  head,  or  neck, 
or  shoulders  ;  whether  it's  his  walk ;  or,  whatever  it 
is,  you  always  know  him,  and  no  mistake  ?" 

"  That's  very  true,"  said  Traverse,  "  and  I  have 
often  been  struck  by  it.  But  why  is  a  likeness  of  the 
back  better  than  a  front  view  ?" 

"  Why,  bless  you,  sir,"  said  Snap,  "  don't  you  see, 
that  while  a  man  can  always  change  his  face  by  a 
wig,  by  shaving,  by  whiskers,  by  spectacles,  and  so 
on,  he  can't  disguise  his  back?  That's  just  the  one 
thing  all  the  time,  whatever  he  does  to  his  face  and 
his  riggin." 

'I  Every  man  to  his  trade,  Snap,"  interposed  Doe : 
"  I  shouldn't  have  thought  of  that." 

"  Ah,  sir,"  rejoined  Snap,  "  set  your  mind  to  one 
thing,  and  get  your  living  according  as  you  learn  it, 
and  if  you're  not  a  dead  flat,  sir,  you'll  get  to  be  a 
sharp.  This  is  a  trade,  as  you  say,  sir,  and  that's  all 
there  is  about  it." 

In  due  time,  Snap  possessed  himself  of  a  copy  of 
Wilson's  likeness.  And  after  studying  it  micros- 
copically and  every  other  way,  so  as  to  make  each 
feature  familiar  to  his  eye,  he  involuntarily  turned  it 
over  to  see  the  back:  which,  unfortunately  for  his 
purpose,  was  wanting. 

"  Why  the  devil  don't  they  take  the  back  views,  as 
well  ?"  muttered  Snap. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

JAE8   WITHOUT   SWEETMEATS. 

THE  propriety,  extrinsic  and  intrinsic,  of  second 
marriages,  is  an  inexhaustible  subject  of  discussion. 
First,  because  there  is  no  limit  to  its  number  of 
points :  and,  secondly,  because  when  a  thoroughly 
exhausting  argument  on  any  one  point  has  been 
delivered  by  A,  B  and  his  successors  can  severally 
repeat,  word  for  word,  what  A  has  said,  without  in 
the  slightest  degree  boring,  or  even  fatiguing,  any  one 
of  an  audience.  But  for  this  fact,  somebody  in  the 
course  of  time  would  probably  reply  to  somebody 
that  he  had  a  distant  recollection  of  having  once 
heard  that  (whatever  the  point  or  argument  of  the 
moment)  before.  As  the  case  stands,  it  is  well  known 
that  such  a  remark  was  never  made.  Hence,  as 
everybody  thoroughly  understands  this  subject,  and 
loves  to  talk  upon  it,  and  never  tires  of  hearing 
others  talk  of  it,  the  subject  is,  as  aforesaid,  inex- 
haustible. 

There  are  cases— well :  take  the  man  who  has  cele- 
brated his  silver  and  his  golden  wedding,  and  after- 
ward buried  the  companion  of  a  long  life.  That  man 
is,  for  a  time,  inconsolable.  Everybody  expects  him 
to  be  inconsolable.  And  he  himself,  who  certainly 
should  know  best,  announces  the  fact,  officially.  His 
children  are  all  of  age ;  all  but  one  are  married  and 
settled  and  have  children  of  their  own.  They  are 

115 


116  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   BOB. 

indefatigable  nevertheless  in  all  the  possible  atten- 
tions to  papa,  as  the  next  generation  are  to  grand- 
papa. There  is  nothing  wanting  in  this  respect.  The 
one  unmarried  daughter  is  an  invalid,  requiring  all 
manner  of  attention  from  friends  and  servants,  and 
herself  incapable  of  rendering  attention  to  her  aged 
father.  The  father  therefore  stands  desolate  in  his 
old  home.  What  is  he  to  do  ? 

Let  him  obtrude  himself  on  his  children  and  grand- 
children a  little  more  than  he  was  accustomed  to  do ; 
and  the  old  gentleman  begins  to  be  troublesome. 
Let  him  request  a  little  more  than  their  accustomed 
attentions  to  him  in  his  own  house  ;  and  the  old  gen- 
tleman is  getting  childish.  What  is  he  to  do  ?  No 
doubt,  the  very  best  thing  he  could  do  is,  to  die. 
But  Providence  sees  fit  to  spare  Tiim.  That  old  man 
has,  through  all  his  mature  life,  been  tliejtrst  object 
of  his  other  self,  whom  Providence  has  now  called 
away.  He  finds  it  very  hard  to  be  nobody's  first 
object ;  but  to  be,  on  the  contrary,  the  object  of 
everybody's  objections.  By  and  by,  and  before  long, 
though  the  old  gentleman  has  an  unusual  share  of 
health  and  strength,  he  finds  himself  breaking  down 
in  both,  from  sheer  loneliness  and  desolation  in  those 
many  and  tedious  hours  of  every  day  when  no  one 
but  a  wife  could  be  with  him.  And,  to  make  a  long 
story  short,  he  meets  with  a  lady  against  whose  age 
and  general  fitness  not  the  slightest  sound  objection 
can  be  raised — and  marries  her.  It  is  not  a  question, 
of  propriety.  It  is  not  a  question  of  love.  It  is 
briefly  a  question  of  life. 

Yet — even  here — and  in  what  must  be  admitted  to 
be  an  extreme  case;  not  a  relative,  friend,  or  acquain- 
tance ;  not  a  man,  woman  or  child  can  be  found  who 


JOHN   DOE    AND   KICHAKD   ROE.  117 

does  not  denounce  "  the  old  fool  /"  It  is  needless  to 
add,  that  any  less  meritorious  or  less  excusable  case 
of  matrimony — any  case  not  superlatively  extreme — 
meets  wi tli  denunciations,  in  comparison  to  which, "  the 
old  fool "  is  quite  a  moderate  and  inoffensive  remark. 
Richard  Roe  was  aware  of  all  this.  And  as  he 
found  that  he  couldn't  please  everybody  in  his  second 
marriage  lie  wisely  resolved  to  please  nobody — but 
himself;  as  has  already  been  intimated.  His  rela- 
tions with  his  daughter,  who  was  about  the  same  age 
as  his  new  wife,  were  unfortunate  for  both  father  and 
daughter.  He  belonged  to  that  class  of  men,  of 
which  specimens  may  be  found  everywhere,  who  look 
upon  children  in  no  other  light  than  as  future  deposi- 
taries of  the  name  and  wealth  of  their  parents  ;  and 
who,  therefore,  consider  the  birth  of  a  daughter  as  a 
mere  calamity  :  since  she  cannot  establish  herself  in 
life  without  losing  her  name,  and  virtually  losing  her 
fortune  by  bestowing — which  is  the  same  thing  as 
squandering — it  on  the  son  of  another  man,  with 
whom  this  class  of  fathers  have  nothing  in  common. 
From  the  firs!;,  therefore,  Roe  had  never  treated 
Margaret  as  his  child.  She  ought  to  have  been  a 
son :  she  was  a  disappointment.  He  took  little  notice 
of  her.  He  left  her  to  her  mother  and  the  servants. 
He  never  cultivated  her  affection,  and  he  never  had 
it  to  any  considerable  extent.  A  different  state  of 
things  might  have  ensued  after  the  death  of  Marga- 
ret's mother,  if  her  father  had  remained  single  ;  or,  if 
lie  had  married  suitably  and  writh  her  concurrence. 
But  the  new  match  was  in  every  particular  ill- 
assorted  ;  and,  so  far  from  its  having  been  entered 
upon  with  the  knowledge  of  Margaret,  she  was  not 
even  apprised  of  her  father's  intentions  until  after  the 


118         JOHN  DOE  AND  RICHARD  ROE 

marriage,  the  ceremony  having  been  suddenly  and 
almost  clandestinely  performed  while  she  was  absent 
from  town. 

Subjects  of  variance  in  a  family  thus  constituted, 
were  not,  as  the  phrase  runs,  far  to  seek.  Indeed, 
they  were  so  near  at  hand  and  so  abundant,  that  they 
soon  took  the  form  of  a  system,  and  became  a  com- 
pletely inaugurated  triangular  duel,  the  explosions  of 
which  were  as  perpetual,  if  not  as  frequent,  as  the 
ticking  of  the  parlor  clock.  The  order  of  shooting 
was  the  only  irregular  feature  of  the  war.  Some- 
times Mr.  Roe  would  pop  at  his  daughter,  the  daugh- 
ter at  the  step-mother,  and  the  step-mother  at  her 
husband,  because  he  began  it.  Again,  Margaret 
would  pop  at  Mrs.  Roe,  Mrs.  Roe  out  of  turn  at 
Margaret,  and  then  at  Mr.  Roe,  because  he  didn't 
begin  it.  And  so  it  went  on,  pop,  pop,  pop,  from 
morning  to  night. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Mrs.  Roe,  one  morning  after 
breakfast,  "  whether  there  is  any  truth  in  that  scandal 
about  the  Jenkinses."  , 

"  Such  as  what  ?"  inquired  Roe. 

"A  separation,  I  believe;  or  something  of  that 
sort,"  rejoined  the  lady. 

"  That  woman,"  Margaret  chimed  in,  "  is  enough 
to  drive  any  man  to  a  separation,  whether  the  story 
is  true  or  not." 

"  My  daughter,"  said  Roe,  meekly,  "  we  ought  not 
to  speak  ill  of  our  neighbors." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  Margaret  replied  ;  "  but  in  this 
case,  the  lady  saves  us  the  trouble :  she  speaks  ill  of 
herself.  Or,  rather,  she  enacts  her  ill-conduct  so 
publicly  that  everybody  hears  it  from  her  own  ac- 
tions, which  speak  louder  than  words." 


JOHN    DOE    AND    RICHARD   ROE.  119 

"These  things  may  be  exaggerated,"  suggested 
Roe,  with  a  significant  look  toward  his  wife :  "  ill- 
natured  people  can  make  something  out  of  no- 
thing." 

Mrs.  Roe  did  not  fancy  Margaret's  interference  nor 
her  husband's  insinuation ;  and  she  intimated  to  Roe, 
by  way  of  a  preliminary  pop,  that  there  was  no  ill- 
nature  in  speaking  ill  of  Mrs.  Jenkins,  while,  how- 
ever, there  might  be  much  in  defending  her. 

"  How  is  that,  my  dear  ?"  inquired  the  banker, 
rather  sharply :  for  while  he  heard  aspersions  on 
others  with  an  ostentatious  charity,  he  considered 
himself  privileged,  especially  in  his  own  house, 

"  In  the  first  place,"  replied  Mrs.  Roe,  "  defending 
Mrs.  Jenkins  is  condemning  the  doctor ;  and  that 
certainly  is  ill-nature,  for  he  is  a  man  above  reproach. 
In  the  second  place,  to  defend  Mrs.  Jenkins,  is  to 
justify  a  public  display  of  family  differences,  for  she 
makes  hers  public  without  the  slightest  compunction. 
My  advice  to  married  women,  if  they  have  quarrels 
with  their  husbands,  is  to  fight  them  out  at  home." 

"  I  should  suppose  that  would  be  your  precept,  my 
dear,"  Roe  rejoined,  with  great  dignity,  "  since  it  is 
your  practice." 

"  And  my  practice  is  on  a  very  poor  subject,"  re- 
torted Mrs.  Roe.  "  As  for  the  Jenkinses,  the  story  is 
true,  and  Mrs.  Swift  is  my  authority." 

"And  pray,  my  dear,"  said  Roe,  boldly,  "who 
believes  a  word  that  Mrs.  Swift  says  ?" 

"  The  simple-minded  individual  '  my  dear?  who  has 
the  oppressive  honor  of  being  your  wife,  and  the 
pleasure  of  being  a  niece  of  Mrs.  Swift  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  forgot !"  lied  the  conscientious  Roe. 

l'  Forgot,  indeed !"  cried  the  lady  with  great  dis- 


120  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   ROE. 

dain  :  "  forgot  that  Mrs.  Swift  is  my  mother's  sister. 
Now,  Margaret,  what  do  you  say  to  that  ?" 

"  I  say,  it's  not  true,  and  father  knows  it,"  replied 
the  dutiful  daughter ;  for  her  blood  was  now  well  up 
at  the  fact  of  the  incessantly  recurring  altercation. 

"  Ah,"  cried  the  step-mother,  "  then,  probably, 
you  will  admit  that  this  time  your  father  began  it.  I 
believe  that  at  our  last  scene  you  pronounced  me  the 
aggressor." 

"  I  really  do  not  remember,  Mrs.  Roe,"  answered 
Margaret;  "  nor  do  I  think  it  at  all  important.  If 
you  are  not  in  fault  this  time,  I'll  engage  you  will  be 
the  next  time.  There's  but  little  to  choose  when  the 
fox  and  the  goat  fall  out." 

"Margaret,"  interposed  Roe,  with  magnificent 
moderation,  "  you  had  better  leave  the  room." 

"  Oh,  no !  let  her  stay,"  interceded  the  young 
wife :  "  she  is  so  good  a  judge  of  who  begins,  I  would 
be  delighted  with  her  judgment  who  gets  the  best  of 
it.  By  the  way,  Miss  Roe,  I  hope  your  affair  with 
Mr.  Gray  is  not  broken  off?  I  heard  some  loud 
talking  after  I  went  up  stairs  last  evening,  and  it 
occurred  to  me  that  he  shut  the  door  with  peculiar 
emphasis  when  he  took  leave.  To  be  sure,  this  might 
have  been  all  in  my  imagination ;  or,"  she  continued, 
with  a  superb  toss  of  her  head,  "  it  might  have  been 
the  effect  of  whiskey.  He  was  so  strong  on  the 
respective  merits  of  Bourbon  and  Monongahela, 
while  I  was  in  the  parlor,  that  I  couldn't  help 
thinking  he  had  made  free  practical  experiments  on 
both." 

This  broad  insinuation  against  her  lover,  not  now 
for  the  first  time  repeated,  touched  Margaret  to  the 
quick. 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  121 

"  I  think  with  you,  father,"  she  said,  "  that  I  had 
better  leave  the  room.  This  interesting  young  woman 
is  becoming  personal.  As  for  Mr.  Gray,  madam," 
turning  to  Mrs.  Roe,  "  I  advise  you  to  gratify  your 
curiosity  by  applying  to  him.  I  remember  the  acci- 
dental closing  of  the  door  and  the  loud  talking ;  and, 
since  you  heard  the  sound  of  the  latter,  I  do  wish  you 
had  heard  the  syllables  of  it!  I  think  you  would 
have  verified  the  proverb.  But,  madam,  though 
doors  are  sometimes  closed  with  a  noise  accidentally, 
I  am  not  aware  of  their  ever  being  closed  without 
noise  accidentally :  and  though  loud  talking  may  be 
suspicious,  low  talking  may  be  much  more  suspi- 
cious. I  observed,  one  evening  last  week,  when  Mr. 
Roe  was  out  of  town,  that  your  talk  with  Mr.  Jack- 
son was  not  loud,  and  that  quite  late  in  the  evening 
the  door  was  closed  so  delicately  that  I  could  not 
help  fancying  some  one  inside  assisted  in  the  closing. 
I  mention  these  trifles,  because  you  remind  me  of 
them.  No  doubt,  everything  between  you  and  Mr. 
Jackson  is  proper :  yet  scandal  does  whisper  that  you 
fancied  the  man  before  you  fancied  the  master." 
And  the  indignant  young  lady  swept  out  of  the  room, 
leaving  her  two  antagonists  something  to  chew  upon. 

The  withdrawal  of  Margaret  did  not  mend  the 
family  jar.  On  the  contrary,  and  as  was  natural, 
such  a  revelation  left  the  remaining  combatants  with 
a  new  cause  of  exasperation.  But  Roe,  though  thus 
enlightened,  had  the  worst  of  the  battle,  and  retired 
vanquished  and  breathless.  "  My  lady  Tongue " 
always  got  the  better  of  him. 

As  to  Jackson  ?  Pooh !  Roe  knew  better  than 
that! 

Perhaps  he  did ! 

6 


CH  APTEE  XIII. 

BKOWN   AT   HOME. 

WHEN  in  the  course  of  events  doctor  Jenkins  and 
his  wife  came  to  a  perfectly  good  understanding, 
which  now  promised  to  be  permanent ;  and  when 
they  had  frankly  exchanged  opinions  as  to  the  state 
of  the  outside  world  in  reference  to  themselves,  they 
concluded,  as  a  matter  of  policy,  to  bring  that  outside 
world  within  their  own  domicile  by  means  of  a  ball 
— "ball"  being  in  current  parlance  the  intensifica- 
tion of  what  was  formerly  known  as  "  a  party." 

The  reconciled  couple  thought  it  better  to  take  the 
bull  of  scandal  by  the  horns,  and  leave  gossips  to 
draw  their  own  conclusions  as  to  the  past,  while  they, 
the  gossips,  were  forced  to  see  that  for  the  future  the 
hatchet  was  buried.  There  will  always  be  individ- 
uals who  regret  to  see  a  quarrel  ended,  even  when  the 
welfare  of  a  whole  family  depends  on  its  reconcilia- 
tion, and  who  would,  moreover,  hope  that  the  recon- 
ciliation might  be  temporary :  but  such  exceptions 
are  incidental  to  a  general  rule.  The  rule  is,  that 
sensible  and  respectable  people  rejoice  when  a  cala- 
mity so  common  as  a  family  quarrel  is  brought  to  an 
end :  the  exceptional  fools  must  be  suffered  to  run 
their  own  course,  with  a  reasonable  prospect  of  break- 
ing their  necks  at  the  end  of  it. 

"My  dear  Louisa,"  said  the  doctor,  with  all  the 
fondness  of  old  times,  "  we  have  secured  the  main 

122 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  123 

point :  never  fear  but  the  friends  whom  we  wish  to 
call  such,  will  rally  around  us." 

The  next  consultation  in  the  premises  was  held 
with  Brown. 

Brown  could  give  them  any  night  they  chose, 
being  so  early  in  the  season :  but,  of  course,  no  lady 
would  think  of  giving  an  out-and-outer  short  of  three 
or  four  weeks'  notice.  Better  four  weeks  than  three. 
To  be  sure,  "  previous  engagements  "  could  not  inter- 
fere ;  but  the  dignity  of  the  institution  must  be  main- 
tained. 

The  cards  produced  a  great  excitement.  Every- 
body was  taken  by  surprise.  Spontaneous  commit- 
tees of  three  ladies  were  improvised  in  the  parlor  of 
every  house  and  at  the  corner  of  almost  every  street. 
But  none  of  these  deliberative  assemblies  could  pass 
a  vote  of  declining.  As  nobody  would  now  give  a 
ball  on  the  same  evening,  "  regrets "  could  not  be 
explained  by  "  previous  engagements  ;"  and,  there- 
fore, absence  would  carry  the  appearance  of  not  being 
invited.  That  argument  was  conclusive.  Every- 
body accepted.  Such  unanimity  never  was  heard  of, 
before.  It  was  gratifying  to  the  Jenkinses,  as  indica- 
tive of  sympathy  and  approval ;  yet  it  had  its  incon- 
veniences. Invitations  in  New- York  are  always 
issued  on  the  theory  of  fifty  contemplated  regrets 
to  every  hundred  cards,  and  a  houseful  hoped  for  on 
that  basis.  This  universal  acceptance,  therefore, 
foreboded  anything  but  room  for  the  dancers. 

The  emergency  required  another  consultation  with 
Brown. 

"  "Why,  madam,"  said  Brown,  "  it's  a  plain  case. 
Your  house  won't  hold  'em,  and  that's  all  there  is 
•  about  it." 


124:  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   KOE. 

"Then,"  replied  madam,  in  despair,  "  we  must  recall 
half  the  cards  and  date  them  for  the  next  evening." 

"In  which  case,  madam,"  interposed  Brown,  "you 
may  put  it  down  for  an  empty  house  on  both  nights. 
The  illustrious  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  madam,  once 
remarked  that  '  one  bad  general  is  better  than  two 
good  ones.'  Now,  madam,  if  you  please,  call  me  the 
bad  general;  but  let  me  work  it  out  all  alone  by 
myself." 

"  The  idea,  Brown,  of  your  being  a  bad  general  1" 
said  madam,  with  an  arch  smile. 

"  Can't  say,  madam  !  Can't  say,"  retorted  Brown. 
"  There  might  be  better,  madam ;  there  might  be 
worse.  The  proof  of  the  pudding,  they  say,  lies  in 
the  eating.  I  mistrusted  how  this  thing  was  a-going : 
experience,  they  say,  teaches.  And  so  I  worked  it 
out  over  night.  I  took  notice,  madam,  that  the 
house  next  door  has  a  bill  on  it — To  LET,  FURNISHED. 
That's  the  talk,  says  I :  and  I  inquired  within.  The 
rooms  are  furnished  very  respectable :  not  to  match 
this,  but  they'll  do  for  an  evening.  "We  can  connect 
the  two  houses  by  cutting  away  the  board  petition 
on  the  rear  piazza.  And  there  you  have  it,  madam, 
just  like  a  knife." 

Brown  was  pronounced  to  be  a  genius :  a  very  Na- 
poleon :  and  things  took  their  course. 


Among  the  unwritten  laws  of  fashionable  life,  is  a 
statute  prohibiting  a  lady  from  being  the  first  to 
arrive,  or  appear,  at  a  ball.  No  lady  must  arrive 
until  some  other  lady  is  already  there.  The  rule  is 
peremptory,  and  it  is  but  justice  to  the  ladies  to  say,- 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  125 

that  they  endeavor  to  obey  it.  Yet,  if  the  rule  were 
literally  enforced,  if  nobody  was  ever  first,  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  understand  how  anybody  could  manage  to  go 
at  all.  Even  the  attempt  at  obedience  leads  to 
inconveniences. 

The  number  of  hair-dressers  is  limited.  No  lady 
can  go  to  a  ball  without  having  her  hair  dressed. 
No  hair-dresser  can  be  in  two  places  at  once.  Hence 
the  ladies  must  submit  to  rotation,  and  rotation 
requires  that  some  be  commenced  early.  "When  a 
lady  is  finished,  being  unfitted  for  anything  else,  she 
leans  against  a  column,  as  Lord  Byron  did,  and  waits. 
It  is  six  o'clock.  It  is  seven  o'clock.  It  is  eight 
o'clock.  It  is  nine  o'clock.  It  is  ten  o'clock. 

The  husband,  or  brother,  or  beau,  who  has  had  no 
trouble  about  his  toilette,  and  did  not  begin  it  till 
half  an  hour  ago,  thinks  it  is  about  time 

"  Oh,  dear !  not  this  hour  yet !"  exclaims  the 
patient  lady.  "  Nobody  will  be  there  before  eleven, 
at  the  very  earliest." 

"  "When  I  was  a  young  man,"  remonstrates  the 
unhappy  escort,  "  we  used  to  think  that  half-past 
eight " 

But  it's  quite  immaterial  what  Mr.  "What's-his- 
name  thought  when  he  was  a  young  man.  Wait  is 
the  word. 

Somewhere  in  the  vicinity  of  eleven  o'clock,  Brown, 
who  has  been  saving  his  wind,  begins  to  blow  his 
whistle.  And,  therefore,  two  or  more  carriages  are 
at  the  door.  For  nobody  need  tell  Brown  that  the 
occupants  of  the  first  carriage  will  not  move  until 
another  carriage  comes ;  hence,  to  make  sure,  he 
reserves  his  first  whistle  for  the  third  carriage. 
That's  the  rule. 


126  JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

The  ice  being  finally  broken,  carriages  and  people 
are  as  plenty  as  blackberries.  One  would  think  that 
all  the  horses  and  vehicles  in  the  town  had  simultane- 
ously started  for  a  common  goal :  and  now,  the  pas- 
sengers cannot  move  fast  enough.  They  seem  dis- 
posed to  avenge  themselves  for  having  lost  so  much 
time  in  waiting. 

By  twelve  o'clock,  every  inch  of  standing  room  in 
the  first  floor  of  both  houses,  and  the  second  floor  of 
one  house,  is  densely  covered.  Sitting  for  anybody 
is  simply  out  of  the  question.  The  second  floor  of 
the  other  house  is  appropriated  to  the  supper,  by  and 
by.  The  third  stories  are  used  for  cloak  and  hat 
rooms.  Three  musical  bands  are  so  placed  as  to 
"  fill "  the  rooms  occupied  by  the  guests.  Their 
object  is  to  keep  time  for  the  dancers,  dancing  being 
the  chief  business  of  the  evening — Anglice  morning. 
How  people  manage  to  dance  where  they  have  barely 
room  to  stand  still,  is  no  part  of  their  historian's 
affair.  Whoever  wants  a  solution  of  that  mystery, 
must  ask  Brown. 

After  the  musicians  have  poured  forth  a  steady 
stream  of  sweet  sounds  for  three  mortal  hours  ;  after 
the  dancers  have  pushed  and  elbowed  and  thrust 
themselves  against  each  other  for  the  same  length  of 
time ;  and  after  the  older  inhabitants  have  jostled 
and  crowded  and  stared  at  each  other  (attempting 
now  and  then  a  compliment  or  an  execration,  but 
never  making  a  syllable  audible  in  the  overwhelming 
din)  for  the  same  three  hours :  the  setting  in  of  a 
human  current  begins  to  be  perceptible  somewhere, 
and  the  mass  finds  itself  moving  in  the  direction  of  a 
stairway  which  lands  near  the  supper-rooms. 

Here,  the  scene  defies  not  only  the  historian's  pen, 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  127 

but  the  poet's  imagination.  A  solid  cordon  of  "  gen- 
tlemen "  is  formed  around  the  tables,  each  of  w^om. 
looks  out  for  number  one.  Each  obviously  went 
there  for  that  purpose,  and  for  no  other  purpose. 
Each,  being  there,  grabs  what  he  can,  and  bolts  what 
he  grabs.  When  he  has  finished  or  become  sated 
with  one  plate,  as  there  is  no  room  for  it  on  the 
table,  he  pitches  it  under  the  table,  and  tries  some- 
thing else.  Each  man  thus  disposes  of  a  share  of 
some  eight  or  ten  dishes,  gives  the  same  attention  to 
the  several  varieties  of  wines,  except  not  throwing  the 
empty  glasses  under  the  table,  and  then — would 
retire,  to  give  somebody  else  a  chance,  if  he  could. 
What  all  the  ladies  and  the  remainder  of  the  gentle- 
men do  for  their  supper,  beyond  standing  there 
crowded,  squeezed  and  jostled  for  another  hour,  is  a 
problem  for  the  aforesaid  poet's  imagination. 

It  is  now  four  o'clock,  and  Brown  is  as  efficient  in 
helping  these  good  people  off,  as  he  was  in  helping 
them  in. 

The  ball  was  a  brilliant  success.  It  was  more  than 
that.  It  was  the  most  delightful  ball  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  most  magnificent  ball  on  the  other 
hand,  and  if  there  were  a  third  "  hand  "  it  would 
have  been  the  most  recherche  ball  on  that  hand,  ever 
given,  ever  known,  ever  heard  of  in  America. 

Why  it  was  all  this :  why  it  received  such  enthu- 
siastic and  admiring  laudation,  is,  again,  the  pro- 
vince of  that  poet's  imagination  to  discover. 

Brown  very  properly  came  in  for  a  share  of  the 
honors.  He  had  exceeded  himself.  For  that  mat- 
ter, and  if  such  a  thing  were  possible,  he  had  cast 
himself  into  the  shade.  He  expanded,  elongated, 
eructated.  He  received  a  medal  of  blue  and  gold, 


128  JOHN   DOE   AND    EICHAKD   ROE. 

with  innumerable  quarterings  and  three  donkeys  ram- 
pant. 

The  Does  were  at  this  ball.  So  were  the  Roes. 
So  were  the  Swifts,  the  Perkinses,  the  McPhersons, 
the  Barbers,  the  Grays,  the  Whites,  the  Greens,  the 
Blacks.  Everybody  was  there.  Nobody  that  is  any- 
body was  not  there.  Gossip  and  scandal  were  there 
incarnate,  exuberant,  ubiquitous  ;  but  they  could  not 
develop.  The  roar  of  the  entertainment  squelched 
them  for  the  time  being.  But  time  to  come  did  for 
them  what  heat  did  for  the  trumpet  of  Munchausen's 
trumpeter :  it  brought  out  the  din-suppressed  senti- 
ments as  fire  melted  out  the  frozen  music. 

Mrs.  Swift,  who  was  always  to  be  found  on  the 
winning  side,  thought  that  family  reconciliations  were 
blessed  things,  especially  where  dear  children  were 
concerned.  For  her  part,  she  coincided  with — 
strange  !  she  could  never  remember  the  names  of 
authors  ! — with — with — well,  never  mind  the  author  ! 
the  words  are  "  Blessed  are  the  peace-makers." 

Mrs.  Roe  quietly  reminded  her  aunt  Swift  that 
that  was  Macaulay. 

Mr.  Smith  ventured  to  differ — Byron. 

Miss  Bloomfield  was  confident  she  had  heard  that 
at  "Wallack's. 

Young  Roberts  was  sorry  to  contradict  any  one, 
especially  a  lady :  but  as  that  line  was  in  his  last 
German  lesson,  there  could  be  no  dispute  about  the 
author — Gaiety. 

Mrs.  Doctor  Perkins  was  happy  to  concur  in  opi- 
nion with  Mrs.  Swift  as  to  peace-making ;  but  she 
really  was  under  an  impression  that  Mrs.  Swift  had 
favored,  instead  of  opposing,  the  separation  of  the 
Jenkinses. 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  129 

Mrs.  Swift,  in  reply,  was  willing  to  undertake 
almost  anything  for  an  old  friend  ;  but  Mrs.  Perkins 
must  excuse  Mrs.  Swift  if  Mrs.  Swift  declined  to  be 
responsible  for  the  defects  of  an  old  friend's  memory. 

Louisa  Jenkins  was  a  companion  of  Mrs.  Swift 
from  childhood ;  she  was  her  dearest  and  best  friend : 
and  how  she,  Mrs.  Swift,  could  do  an  injury  to  her 
dearest  and  best  friend,  candor  itself  must  judge. 

Other  circles  of  gossips,  which  had  not  among 
them  any  friends  of  Mrs.  Jenkins  from  childhood, 
took  a  different  view  of  the  reconciliation.  The  ball 
was  a  success,  certainly.  No  one  could  doubt  that. 
And  such  a  ball  was  conclusive  as  to  public  opinion. 
But  these  reconciliations  between  people  of  a  certain 
age,  often  had  a  motive  and  were  not  always  perma- 
nent. This  was  a  patching  up  of  a  very  old  rent. 
And  putting  new  cloth  into  old  garments  was  very 
often  only  jumping  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the 
fire. 

Men  don't  usually  trouble  themselves  much  about 
the  smaller  grades  of  scandal ;  and  among  them,  the 
Jenkins  matter  attracted  but  little  attention.  Doc- 
tor Perkins  had  occasion  to  say,  now  and  then,  that 
the  least  said  is  the  soonest  mended :  which,  as  the 
Jenkinses  had  recently  withdrawn  from  his  church, 
and  connected  themselves  with  a  clergyman  of  a  dif- 
ferent calibre,  was  considered  quite  a  moderate  com- 
ment. Richard  Roe  had  rather  more  to  say,  because 
he  felt  that  it  was  expected  of  him.  Richard's 
charity  was  ever  large  and  demonstrative — when  it 
cost  nothing,  and  when  it  was  not  needed  by  those 
who  had  in  any  sense  wronged,  offended,  or  thwarted 
him  or  his.  "  It  is  really  beautiful,"  he  said,  "  to 
see  two  people  who  in  former  days  had  so  often 

6* 


130  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   EOE. 

taken  sweet  counsel  together  and  walked  to  the  house 
of  God  in  company,  returning  again,  as  with  harps 
in  their  hands,  into  the  sanctuary,  and  kneeling 
before  the  Lord  that  bought  them  !"  Richard,  how- 
ever, couldn't  quite  understand  why  they  preferred, 
of  late,  the  preaching  of  the  reverend  Mr.  Duncan  ; 
who  never,  to  Richard's  poor  judgment,  seemed  to 
have  got  hold  of  the  root  of  the  matter.  But.  Mr. 
Duncan  was  comparatively  young.  He  might  im- 
prove. He  had  a  pious  mother,  whose  name  was 
Rachel. 


OHAPTEK    XIY. 

WILSON   AT   HOME. 

WILSON  remained  for  a  time  in  quiet,  unobtrusive 
retirement.  By  the  attention  of  Mrs.  Pinch,  he  was 
supplied  with  all  the  newspapers,  daily  and  weekly, 
all  the  magazines,  and  all  the  new  novels.  These 
occupied  the  leisure  hours  of  every  day.  For  a 
change,  he  took  observations  through  the  blinds  of 
his  front  windows,  and  made  quite  a  study  of  the 
carts  that  frequented  the  vicinity :  the  milk  carts, 
wood  carts,  fruit  carts  and  fishermen's  carts.  He 
soon  knew  the  drivers  and  their  horses,  and  could 
make  an  approximate  estimate  of  the  amounts  of 
their  daily  sales. 

The  grocer's  shop,  directly  over  the  way,  was  a 
great  resource  to  him.  The  grocer,  additionally  to 
the  usual  variety  of  family  articles,  kept  for  sale 
imported  wines  and  liquors  of  the  very  first  quality ; 
and  probably  he  sold  these  by  the  small  quantity, 
for  a  large  number  of  laboring  men  called  there 
daily,  each  of  whom  uniformly  came  out  of  the  shop 
smacking  his  lips  and  wiping  his  mouth  with  his 
hand  or  his  sleeve — or  his  handkerchief  if  he  had 
one.  The  grocer  also  made  a  display  of  vegetables 
and  fruits  of  the  season,  which  were  exhibited 
around  the  door.  And  Wilson  came  to  be  familiar 
with  the  faces  of  the  customers  of  these  articles  ; 
among  whom  was  a  ragged  urchin  about  seven  years 


181 


132  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHABD   EOE. 

old,  who  passed  by  every  morning  on  his  way  to 
school  and  contrived  to  steal  an  apple,  regularly,  for 
lunch. 

These  things  might  have  proved  very  stupid  to  a 
spectator  who  had  the  ordinary  powers  of  locomo- 
tion and  the  freedom  of  the  city ;  but  to  Wilson 
they  furnished  substantial  recreation  and  amusement. 
A  certain  amount  of  physical  exercise,  over  and 
above  these  mental  enjoyments,  was  however  neces- 
sary to  health ;  and  Wilson  attained  this  by  using  a 
pair  of  dumb-bells  in  the  daytime,  and  by  long 
walks  on  dark  and  rainy  evenings.  Meantime, 
he  thought  over  a  variety  of  plans  for  a  journey, 
or  a  foreign  residence,  but  without  coming  to  any 
conclusion. 

Mrs.  Pinch  had  occasional  interviews  with  Wilson : 
and  although  the  aid  she  received  from  him  as  the 
price  of  his  meals  was  an  important  addition  to  her 
income,  his  presence  began  to  give  her  vague  appre- 
hensions of  danger ;  and  she  thought  that  whenever 
he  could  with  security  to  himself  change  his  quarters, 
she  would  be  greatly  relieved. 

The  task  of  managing  the  children  was  various. 
At  first  they  both  manifested  great  curiosity  to  see 
their  uncle  Sam.  But  as  he  was  kept  very  much 
out  of  their  way,  was  always  an  invalid  and  got 
up  a  reputation  for  being  more  or  less  ill-tem- 
pered, Phebe  soon  ceased  to  care  about  him.  But 
Tom  was  not  so  easily  disenchanted.  An  uncle  was, 
to  his  apprehension,  suggestive  of  odd  sixpences,  a 
new  penknife,  and  something  for  Christmas.  Be- 
sides, Tom  was  a  dealer  in  medicine,  and  his  inquir- 
ing mind  kept  him  on  the  lookout  for  the  ailments 
of  those  who  called  for  remedies.  He  soon  learned 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  133 

what  was  good  for  a  cold,  for  a  headache,  for  a 
toothache.  He  began  to  have  some  notion  of 
fevers,  chills,  palpitations  ;  and  he  learned  that  gene- 
ral debility  was  a  favorite  disease  with  Mr.  Scalpel's 
customers.  In  short,  he  was  rapidly  getting  to  be  a 
doctor ;  and,  as  his  uncle  Sam  was  sick,  all  he  had  to 
do  was  to  find  out  what  ailed  him,  and  he  might  have 
the  luck  to  cure  him :  a  feat  that,  in  Tom's  judgment, 
would  "  pay,  splendid." 

"  Mother,"  said  he,  one  night,  as  he  was  pre- 
paring to  go  to  bed,  "  what's  the  matter  with  uncle 
Sam  ?" 

"  Oh,  he  has  a  kind  of  a  pain,"  replied  Mrs. 
Pinch,  in  a  tone  intended  to  discourage  further 
inquiry. 

"  Pain,  eh  ?"  echoed  Tom.  "  Where  is  it,  I  won- 
der?" 

"  Go  to  bed,  you  foolish  boy,"  answered  Mrs.  Pinch. 
"  What  do  you  know  about  pain  ?" 

"  I  guess  I  know  considerable,"  rejoined  Tom 
stoutly ;  "  and  if  you'll  tell  me  the  simtoms,  mother, 
maybe  I  can  cure  him." 

The  audacity  of  this  suggestion  astonished  the 
widow.  And  the  boy's  pertinacity  rather  alarmed 
her.  But  finally,  reasoning  with  rapidity  back  to 
the  cause  of  his  meddling,  and  catching  the  ludi- 
crous feature  of  it,  to  wit,  that  Tom  had  smelt  medi- 
cine long  enough  to  fancy  he  could  prescribe  it  pro- 
fessionally, she  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter. 

That  so  disconcerted  poor  Torn  that,  for  the  time, 
he  gave  up  his  castle  in  the  air  and  tumbled  into 
bed.  But  the  incident  didn't  tend  toward  relieving 
the  widow's  apprehensions  in  the  matter  of  uncle 
Sam's  sojourn. 


134  JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

» 

One  cold,  blustering  night,  when  the  wind  and 
rain  were  sharply  contending  with  each  other  and 
with  all  substantial  objects  in  their  reach ;  just  as 
the  clocks  were  striking  eleven  and  as  Wilson  was 
preparing  for  bed,  he  was  astonished  at  hearing  a 
heavy,  and  irregular  step  creaking  up  his  staircase : 
and  immediately  afterward,  some  one  knocked  and 
rattled  loudly  at  his  door.  He  snatched  a  revolver 
and  a  policeman's  club  from  a  drawer,  and  laid  them 
at  hand  on  a  table. 

"  Open  the  door,  G d you!"  cried  a  voice 

without. 

"  Who's  there  ?"  demanded  Wilson,  as  firmly  as  he 
could. 

"  If  you  don't  open  the  door,  d you,"  the  voice 

continued,  with  increasing  vehemence  of  thundering 
against  the  inanimate  obstacle,  "I'll  let  you  know 
who's  there,  by  G ." 

By  this  time,  Wilson  became  aware  that  whoever 
the  person  might  be,  he  was  a  man  very  consi- 
derably the  worse  for  liquor.  And  knowing  that 
a  sober  and  resolute  man,  six  feet  high,  with  arms 
at  command,  could  stand  in  no  personal  danger  from 
any  one  in  a  state  of  intoxication,  he  unfastened  and 
opened  the  door. 

And,  as  he  had  foreseen,  he  was  confronted  by  a 
man  about  half-seas  over.  The  stranger  was  of  me- 
dium size,  probably  forty  years  of  age,  ill-dressed, 
soaked  with  rain,  and  exhibiting  a  countenance  bru- 
talized by  years  of  intemperance.  And  addition- 
ally to  the  coarse  ferocity  of  his  drunken  features, 
his  face  was  now  inflamed  with  rage  at  being  refused 
an  entrance  into  what  he  seemed  to  imagine  was  his 
own  apartment. 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHARD   ROE.  135 

"  Why  the  h didn't  you  open  the  door,  you 

d b ?"  he'  exclaimed,  as  if  addressing  a  wo- 
man, though  no  woman  was  there.  Then,  suddenly 
changing  his  tone  as  he  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  a  powerful  man  with  strange  surroundings,  he 
added,  "  who  the  h are  you,  mister  ?" 

"  Somebody  who'll  put  you  where  you'll  stay 
put,  if  you  don't  stop  this  infernal  noise,"  cried 
Wilson  sternly,  grasping  the  club,  and  nourishing 
it  around  the  drunkard's  head  till  it  whistled  again. 
Indeed,  it  was  by  the  hardest  that  he  refrained  from 
dealing  the  intruder  a  conclusive  blow ;  for  the 
danger  to  himself  of  a  row  at  this  late  hour,  involv- 
ing a  visit  from  the  police  and  a  probable  dis- 
covery of  his  indentity,  rendered  him  nearly  as  much 
beside  himself  with  wrath  as  his  opponent  was  with 
rum. 

But  a  drunken  man  is  not  easily  intimidated,  nor 
was  this  fellow  quite  so  far  gone  with  drink  as  Wil- 
son at  first  supposed.  On  the  contrary,  with  a 
quickness  and  agility  for  which  Wilson  was  totally 
unprepared,  the  stranger  sprang  aside  from  the  club, 
made  a  rush  under  Wilson's  arm,  and  laid  hold  of 
the  pistol  which  Wilson  had' just  before  placed  on 
the  table.  *  Retreating  to  the  farther  side  of  the 
room,  he  then  brought  the  weapon  to  bear  on  Wil- 
son, and  stood  ready  to  shoot. 

"  Now  d you !  who  are  you,  and  what  are  you 

doing  here  ?"  he  said  in  a  loud  tone,  but  not  quite  so 
boisterous  as  his  previous  address. 

At  this  instant  Mrs.  Pinch  rushed  into  the  room, 
followed  by  Phebe  and  Tom :  all  having  been  startled 
out  of  their  beds  by  the  uproar.  The  new  comers 
saw  at  a  glance  that  the  intruder  was  Jo.  Rabbit, 


136  JOHN   DOE   AND   EIOHAKD   EOE. 

who  with  his  wife  and  children  had  recently  occupied 
and  been  ejected  from  the  rooms  now  held  by  Wil- 
son. The  man  had  been  "  out  on  a  spree  ;"  and,  fol- 
lowing the  instinct  of  former  associations,  had  in  his 
drunkenness  taken  a  road  "  home "  that  was  more 
familiar  to  him  than  the  way  to  his  new  locality  in 
another  part  of  the  town. 

Mrs.  Pinch  appreciated  the  true  state  of  the  case 
in  a  moment,  and  saw  the  importance  of  bringing 
Babbit  to  comprehend  it,  if  in  his  present  state  he 
could  be  made  to  comprehend  anything.  With  a 
courage  that  is  peculiar  to  her  sex  in  emergencies  of 
extreme  peril — for,  though  most  women  have  a  child- 
ish dread  of  fire-arms  in  friendly  or  careless  hands, 
they  will  stand  firmly  against  them  when  in  the 
hands  of  an  enemy — with  this  courage,  which  seems 
to  be  in  woman  rather  an  instinct  than  a  sentiment, 
Mrs.  Pinch  placed  herself  directly  in  front  of  the 
pistol  and  placed  her  hand  on  its  barrel. 

"  Rabbit,"  said  she  in  a  perfectly  quiet  tone,  "  you 
forget.  This  is  not  your  room.  You  all  moved  away 
from  here — don't  you  remember  ?" 

The  calm  tone  and  manner  of  a  weak  woman  who 
was  braving  a  danger  \hat  few  men  would  care  to 
encounter,  coupled  with  the  fact  that  Mrs.  Pinch  and 
the  Habbits  were  old  friends,  brought  the  ruffian  to  a 
parley.  He  withdrew  the  pistol  from  her  hand,  took 
a  step  to  the  right  so  as  to  stand  free  with  regard  to 
Wilson,  and  thus  held  himself  in  readiness  to  use  the 
weapon,  while,  nevertheless  he  said  to  his  antagonist 
in  moderate*  and  conciliatory  terms  : 

"  See  here,  mister ;  suppose  we  ground  arms  and 
take  a  drink  ?" 

An  angry  reply  was  at  the  very  lips  of  Wilson ; 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  137 

but  he  repressed  it.  A  pistol-shot  with  whatever 
result,  or  a  prolongation  of  the  quarrel  on  whatever 
terms,  could  not  fail  to  end  in  an  interference  of  the 
police  ;  which  above  all  things  was  to  be  dreaded. 
Wilson,  therefore,  met  the  exigency  with  great  cool- 
ness and  address,  resolving  on  the  instant  to  give  this 
fellow  not  only  u  a  drink,"  but  so  many  of  them  as 
should  effectually  wash  out  any  distinct  recollection 
of  this  night's  experiences. 

"  I  agree  to  that,  my  boy,"  he  said,  in  answer  to 
Rabbit's  proposition ;  and,  tossing  his  club  into  a 
corner,  advanced  to  receive  the  pistol  from  Rabbit, 
which  the  latter  handed  to  him  without  hesitation. 

"  Mrs.  Pinch,"  Wilson  continued,  "  we  will  not  ask 
you  to  join  us  ;  and  as  for  the  children,  they  ought 
to  be  in  bed."  Then  he  added,  in  a  whisper,  as 
she  was  retiring,  "keep  all  quiet.  I'll  manage  this 
fellow !" 

Wilson  cleared  the  table  of  papers  and  brought 
from  the  back  room  a  bottle  of  brandy  with  two 
tumblers  and  a  pitcher  of  water.  He  filled  first  for 
himself,  mixing  the  weaker  element  in  much  the 
larger  proportion.  Then,  taking  up  the  other  tum- 
bler, he  observed  that  there  was  dust  in  it,  and  he 
went  again  to  the  back  room — to  rinse  the  dust  out. 
He  held  his  left  hand  well  around  it  when  he  returned 
and  hastily  poured  into  it  a  small  quantity  of  the 
brandy :  when,  as  if  recollecting  that  his  visitor  might 
prefer  to  adjust  the  proportions  for  himself,  he  pushed 
it  toward  him,  saying : 

"  You  know  best  how  you  like  it  mixed." 

Considering  that  the  night  was  wet  and  cold,  and 
that  Rabbit  had  not  taken  a  drop  since  morning,  that 
personage  thought  it  would  be  prudent  to  fortify  hia 


138  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHARD   ROE. 

stomach  with  an  extra  charge.  He  accordingly  mixed 
about  three  brandies  to  one  water  and  tossed  it  off 
with  infinite  relish,  wishing  there  might  be  plenty 
more  where  that  came  from  and  good  luck  to  the 
gentleman  that  owned  it. 

The  brandy  in  that  bottle  must  have  been  very 
strong,  or  Wilson,  in  rinsing  dust  out  of  the  tumbler, 
must  have  left  something  in  the  tumbler  more  potent 
than  dust :  for  in  a  short  time,  Rabbit  was  as  fast 
asleep  as  a  man  in  health  possibly  could  be.  So 
fast,  indeed,  that  Wilson,  after  making  a  preliminary 
experiment  or  two,  was  satisfied  that  nothing  in  the 
usual  course  of  events  would  wake  him  for  several 
hours. 

That  being  sufficiently  ascertained,  Wilson  ex- 
changed his  own  boots  for  slippers,  so  that  he  might 
tread  lightly  down  the  stairs.  He  then  grasped 
.Rabbit  by  the  shoulders  and  dragged  him  slowly 
through  the  door,  down  the  stairway,  into  the  street. 
He  returned  for  Rabbit's  hat :  looked  up  and  down 
for  straggling  passengers,  and  for  vigilant  police- 
men— for  Wilson  knew  what  every  one  knows ;  few 
things  are  more  difficult  to  be  got  at,  than  a  police- 
man when  you  want  him :  and  few  things  are  more 
omnipresent  than  the  same  individual  when  you  don't 
want  him.  In  this  case,  the  state  of  the  weather  and 
the  elements,  which  were  so  uncongenial  to  Rabbit's 
stomach,  proved  equally  dangerous  to  the  outward 
man  of  the  guardians  of  the  peace.  In  other  words, 
the  street  was  clear  and  silent,  except  for  the  wind 
and  rain. 

Wilson  therefore,  with  little  trouble  and  no  risk, 
dragged  his  man  around  the  first  corner  and  placed 
him  in  a  half-sitting  position  on  the  leeward  side  of  a 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  139 

grocer's  shop,  against  the  door,  and  under  the  protec- 
tion of  sundry  empty  boxes  and  barrels,  and  an  awn- 
ing overhead.  He  then  crowded  the  fellow's  hat  over 
his  head,  and  made  his  way  home  again  much  faster 
than  he  came. 

It  may  be  supposed  that  though  the  children  of 
Mrs.  Pinch  went  back  to  their  beds  and  soon  forgot 
the  evening's  excitement  in  sleep,  their  mother,  who 
better  understood  the  dangers  of  this  affair,  watched 
anxiously  for  its  termination.  Carefully  as  Wilson 
had  managed,  not  a  movement  escaped  her  vigilant 
ear.  She  supposed  she  understood  the  dragging  down 
stairs  of  Rabbit's  inanimate  body ;  though,  consider- 
ing the  daring  character  of  Wilson  and  his  determina- 
tion to  brave  any  risk  rather  than  be  re-arrested,  she 
could  not  but  feel  an  intense  solicitude  until  he 
returned  from  the  street.  She  met  him  at  the  door 
as  he  came  in,  and  followed  him  up  to  his  room. 

Wilson  could  not  prudently  keep,  nor  did  he  desire 
to  keep,  the  details  secret  from  Mrs.  Pinch.  He, 
therefore,  stated  them,  fully:  explaining  the  dusty 
tumbler  by  remarking  that  he  put  into  it  a  small 
quantity  of  morphine ;  which,  without  affecting  the 
taste  of  the  brandy,  rendered  it  powerfully  narcotic. 
On  the  whole,  Rabbit  was  served  right.  !No  serious 
harm  could  come  to  him  ;  and  the  chances  of  his  so 
far  remembering  the  events  of  the  evening  as  to  be 
able  to  give  any  intelligible  or  credible  account  of 
them,  even  if  when  he  became  sober,  he  was  disposed 
to  do  so — were  very  slight.  And  when  he  was  sober, 
and  on  any  ordinary  occasion,  there  was  no  proba- 
bility of  his  repeating  his  visit. 

This  really  rational  view  of  the  case  gradually 
quieted  the  apprehensions  of  both  parties  to  the  con- 


140  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAKD   ROE. 

ference,  greatly  as  they  had  at  first  been  alarmed. 
They  would  take  more  care  about  keeping  the  out- 
side door  fastened ;  and  would  keep  a  lookout  for 
stray  visitors.  But  on  the  whole,  no  cause  for  any 
new  measures  seemed  to  arise  from  this  startling 
occurrence. 


CHAPTER   XY. 

BABBIT     AT     HOME. 

THE  honest  Dutchman  who  rejoiced  in  the  propri- 
etorship of  the  shop,  at  the  portal  of  which  Mr.  Jo- 
seph Rabbit  had  been  deposited  for  safe  keeping, 
was  an  early  riser.  Moreover,  his  residence  was 
within  the  same  premises  as  those  where  he  transact- 
ed his  business  :  in  plainer  terms,  he  lived  over  the 
shop.  And  when  he  and  his  boy  set  about  opening 
the  shop,  on  the  morning  now  in  question,  they 
found  that  the  door,  which  usually  stuck  a  little  at 
the  bottom,  swung  inward  without  any  pulling,  and 
was  incontinently  followed  by  the  body  of  a  man 
with  his  hat  over  his  eyes  ;  which  body,  being  una- 
ble to  support  itself,  and  being  suddenly  deprived  of 
what  had  for  some  hours  supported  it,  lazily  mea- 
sured its  length  on  the  floor. 

Intoxicated  men,  at  proper  hours  for  being  intoxi- 
cated, are  so  common  about  these  grocers'  groggeries 
that  this  incident  in  the  abstract  would  not  have 
been  alarming  to  the  honest  Dutchman.  But  the 
thing  was  ill-timed :  so  far,  unusual :  and  it  could 
not  be  regarded  in  the  abstract.  Taken  in  the  con- 
crete, which  was  the  only  way  it  could  be  taken,  the 
incident  was  more  or  less  alarming,  because  the  case 
might  be  something  more  than  intoxication.  Still, 
as  the  body  was  warm,  flexible  and  capable  of 
breathing ;  capable,  also,  of  a  satisfactory  grunt  as  it. 


142  JOHN   DOE   AKD   RICHARD   ROE. 

came  to  the  floor  ;  and  as  neither  wound  nor  blood 
was  visible,  the  alarm  was  short  lived. 

It  was  a  clear  case  of  liquor  ;  and  moreover,  a  case 
for  which  the  honest  Dutchman  felt  himself  some- 
what responsible.  For  although  this  rum  customer 
had  not  been  seen  on  the  premises  for  some  weeks 
until  the  immediately  preceding  night,  yet,  for- 
merly, he  had  been  a  frequent  participant  of  the 
Dutchman's  hospitalities,  and  on  the  night  referred 
to,  had  found  his  way  back  again  to  the  old  haunt. 
But  the  Dutchman  had  seen  him  depart  in  pretty 
good  case  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  he  could  not 
imagine  how  he  came  to  be  here  now. 

But  Hans  was  a  practical  man.  And  so  soon  as 
he  found  that  he  could  not  find  how  the  drunken 
man  came  there,  he  set  about  finding  out  what  was 
much  more  to  his  purpose  :  namely,  how  to  get  rid 
of  him  ? 

It  is  an  old  and  veritable  maxim  that  there  is  no 
friendship  in  trade  :  that  is  to  say,  in  business,  every 
man  must  look  out  for  himself.  Hans  understood 
this.  Besides,  he  was  a  man  of  ready  wit :  and  he 
had,  moreover,  read  in  his  own  native  tongue  the 
Arabian  nights — as  will  shortly  be  obvious.  Hans 
might,  indeed,  have  considered  that  as  Rabbit  was 
an  old  customer  who  had  put  him  in  the  way  of  tak- 
ing care  of  so  many  pennies  that  they  now  amounted 
to  many  pounds  ;  and,  as  turn  about  is  fair  play,  and 
a  few  shillings  of  old  profits  expended  in  sending 
this  poor  man  home  on  a  cart  would  hardly  be 
missed  :  Hans  might  have  considered  these  things, 
but  he  didn't. 

He  looked  into  the  street  somewhat  as  Wilson  had 
done  on  the  preceding  night,  and  for  a  similar  pur- 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  143 

pose.  It  was  yet  early.  The  morning  was  dark. 
Rain  was  falling.  His  old  competitor  in  business, 
whose  shop  stood  obliquely  across  the  way,  distant 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  was  not.  yet  astir. 

"  Dietrick,"  said  he  to  the  boy,  "  catch  him  by  te 
feet,  whiles  I  grabs  him  by  te  shoulters,  and  haf 
him  ofer  to  Schmidt's  in  no  time.  If  tey  see  us,  ten 
ve  are  takin  him  to  te  police.  If  not,  by  tamn ! 
Schmidt  vill  fint  von  customer  ven  he  ton't  vant 
him  !" 

Not  much  sooner  said  than  done.  And  Rabbit 
was  deposited  at  Schmidt's  unopened  shop  door,  in 
a  position  very  nearly  as  comfortable  as  he  lately 
occupied  at  Hans's. 

The  experiences  of  Schmidt  on  opening  his  shop 
door  were  so  similar  to  the  experiences  of  Hans  in  a 
like  case,  that  a  particular  description  of  the  latter 
cannot  be  needed.  Rabbit's  experiences  were  also 
substantially  the  same  in  both  cases  :  excepting  that 
as  the  door-sill  of  Schmidt  was  raised  about  six 
inches  above  the  shop  floor,  Rabbit's  head  and  shoul- 
ders had  so  much  further  to  fall,  and  his  body  lay  so 
much  the  more  uncomfortably  by  reason  of  a  six 
inch  curve  of  the  back  in  the  wrong  direction.  This 
circumstance  made  it  necessary  for  Schmidt,  on  the 
ground  of  common  humanity,  to  pull  the  body  into 
a  change  of  position  ;  and  as  he  had  no  spare  room 
inside  of  the  shop,  he  dragged  him  outwardly  and 
laid  him  on  the  front  step.  This  was  a  task  of  s(5me 
difficulty ;  because  Schmidt's  boy  had  been  kept 
awake  all  night  by  cramp  in  the  stomach  and  over- 
slept himself  this  morning,  leaving  Schmidt,  who 
was  a  very  small  man,  to  do  the  work  without  assist- 
ance. 


144  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAJBD   ROE. 

The  calamity  of  Rabbit — if  it  can  be  called  such — 
was  a  windfall  to  the  little  boys  in  that  neighbor- 
hood. Boys  delight  in  the  unexpected  and  the  terri- 
ble. And  here  was  a  case  of  murder,  or  something 
much  like  it,  at  their  very  doors — as,  one  after  ano- 
ther, the  urchins  straggled  out  of  their  dens  to  take 
the  fresh  air  and  whistle  up  or  run  down  an  appetite 
for  their  breakfasts. 

A  crowd,  very  respectable  as  to  numbers,  whatever 
might  be  the  fitting  epithet  for  their  social  position, 
Boon  gathered  around  the  unfortunate  Schmidt's 
door.  In  turn,  by  and  by,  this  crowd  attracted  the 
attention  of  a  stray  policeman,  who  previously  was 
making  his  way  home  on  the  sly,  by  reason  of  an 
over-night's  delinquency  :  but  who  now  saw  an  unex- 
pected opportunity  to  make  use  of  his  official  prero- 
gative, and  cover  up  recent  deficiencies  by  a  display 
of  present  vigilance.  He  solemnly  reproved  the 
crowd  for  their  vain,  idle,  unfeeling  curiosity :  he 
vociferously  impressed  a  passing  cartman  into  the 
public  service  ;  and,  having  employed  some  of  the 
bystanders  to  place  Rabbit  on  the  cart,  he  mounted 
guard  over  him  and  triumphantly  drove  off  to  the 
station  house. 

The  victorious  policeman  had  no  desire  to  over- 
estimate his  services  on  the  present  occasion.  If  any- 
thing, he  would  prefer  to  underestimate  them.  His 
manifold  perils  of  life  and  limb  in  capturing  the 
redoubtable  Rabbit,  might  perhaps  become  any  other 
narrator  better  than  himself.  But  unfortunately,  as 
no  witnesses  were  present,  to  tell  their  story  or  to 
confirm  his,  and  as  Rabbit  was  hardly  in  a  con- 
dition to  contradict  either :  he,  the  policeman  must 
throw  himself  on  the  indulgence  of  the  captain 


JOHN   DOK   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  145 

while  he  delivered  a  round  and  entirely  unvarnished 
tale. 

The  captain  considered  the  story  a  good  one — 
rather  too  good  to  be  true.  And  he  sent  a  recom- 
mendation to  head-quarters,  that  the  policeman  be 
rewarded  by  a  forfeiture  of  three  days'  pay  for  being 
absent  from  roll-call. 

Rabbit  was  not  altogether  unknown  to  the  depart- 
ment. And  this  was  by  no  means  his  first  appear- 
ance on  these  boards  in  his  favorite  character :  though 
here,  as  elsewhere,  the  performance  came  off  at  an 
unusual  hour.  As  he  was,  however,  insensible  from 
intoxication,  the  committing  officer  postponed  the 
official  questions  and  reprimand,  and  summarily  or- 
dered Rabbit  to  his  old  quarters  with  a  wholesome 
and  necessary  bit  of  advice :  namely,  to  sleep  himself 
sober  and  be  in  a  hurry  about  it. 

If  Wilson  had  been  present  in  the  character  of  an 
invisible  spectator,  he  might  have  had  some  misgiv- 
ing as  to  Rabbit's  prolonged  pursuit  of  sleep  under 
difficulties.  He  might  have  had  a  doubt  as  to  the 
quantity  of  morphine  with  which  he  replaced  the 
dust  in  that  tumbler.  Yet,  he  was  familiar  with  the 
commodity.  He  had,  years  ago,  acquired  the  ver/ 
bad  habit  of  dosing  himself  with  it ;  and,  since  his 
arrest,  he  had  kept  himself  provided  with  it  through 
the  agency  of  friends — that  being  the  only  favor  he 
asked  of  them.  He  was  so  habituated  to  its  use,  that 
he  could  dispense  with  almost  anything  else,  rather 
than  that.  What  he  now  had,  was  part  of  a  liberal 
supply  procured  in  reference  to  the  contingency  of  a 
sudden  journey  that  he  might,  at  any  hour,  be  called 
on  to  take.  Could  he,  however,  in  estimating  its 
strength  by  his  own  power  of  endurance,  increased 

7 


146  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHARD   KOE. 

by  long  use — could  he  have  miscalculated  its  effect 
on  a  man  who,  probably,  had  never  before  swallowed 
a  drop  of  it  ? 


The  incidents  of  the  preceding  night  were  not 
happily  adapted  to  check  the  spirit  of  inquiry  re- 
cently developed  in  Thomas  Pinch.  He  resumed  the 
subject  at  breakfast. 

"  Mother,"  said  he,  "  does  uncle  Sam  look  like  my 
father?" 

"  Like  your  father  !"  echoed  the  widow  in  great 
astonishment :  "  what  do  you  ask  that  for  ?" 

"  Because,"  answered  Tom,  as  much  abashed  at 
his  mother's  astonishment  as  his  mother  could  be 
amazed  at  the  inquiry,  "  I  suppose  people's  fathers 
and  uncles  always  looks  alike  :  and  seeing  I  don't  re- 
member how  my  father  looked,  I  only  asked." 

"My  son,"  rejoined  the  widow,  abashed  in  turn  at 
her  own  want  of  address  in  maintaining  Wilson's 
assumed  relationship,  "  my  uncles  are  the  brothers 
of  my  father ;  not  y<5urs :  and,  to  be  particular,  my 
uncles  would  be  your  great  uncles." 

"  Oho  !"  cried  Tom,  relieved.  "  All  right.  I  see. 
Only,  uncle  Sam  don't  look  to  be  old  enough  for 
that." 

"  Tom,"  pursued  the  mother,  evasively,  "  what  do 
you  want  to  bother  so  much  about  your  uncles? 
They  don't  bother  about  you." 

"  More  shame  for  'em,  if  they  haven't  got  little 
boys  of  their  own,"  persisted  Tom.  "  Now,  I  should 
think  uncle  Sam  would  want  us  up  in  his  room  some- 
times, and  he  such  a  sick  man,  and  nobody  to  play 
with.  Anyhow,  he  didn't  look  much  sick  last  night. 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   KOE.  14:7 

standing  up  against  old  Rabbit's  pistol  and  he  no- 
thing but  a  club  in  his  hand." 

"  Why,  you  know,  Tom,"  interposed  Phebe,  "  they 
can  keep  firing  all  the  time  with  a  club,  and  a  pistol 
don't  go  off'  but  once  or  twice." 

"  Hurrah  for  you,  Phebe,"  cried  Tom,  graciously 
giving  his  sister  full  credit  for  an  idea  that  was  not 
so  much  out  of  the  way  as  it  might  be.  "  But  sup- 
pose the  feller  with  the  pistol  gets  a  bullet  on  to  you 
first  ?  What's  the  club  good  for  then  ?" 

"  The  man  with  the  club,"  responded  Phebe,  no- 
thing daunted,  "musn't  wait  for  that.  He  must 
rush  in." 

"  Good  again !"  cried  Tom.  "  But,  you  see,  that's 
just  what  uncle  Sam  couldn't  do,  and  that's  what  I 
look  at.  He  was  away  over  here,  and  Rabbit  had 
the  pistol  right  at  him,  over  there.  I  guess,  if  we 
hadn't  come  in,  there'd  a  been  a  muss,  though !  But 
I  shouldn't  think,  mother,"  Tom  continued,  running 
from  one  thing  to  another  seemingly  with  no  better 
purpose  than  to  relieve  his  overburdened  mind,  "  I 
shouldn't  think  uncle  Sam  would  be  taking  drinks 
with  that  old  Rabbit." 

"  Don't  you  know,  my  son,"  said  the  widow,  "  that 
Rabbit  was  drunk,  and  that  was  the  easiest  way  to 
get  rid  of  him  ?" 

"  I  should  rather  think,"  rejoined  Tom,  expanding 
with  the  conviction  that  he  was  about  ta  utter  a 
moral  reflection,  "  that  that  was  the  easiest  way  to 
hold  on  to  him." 

Tom  uttered  this  significant  apothegm  gravely  and 
without  the  faintest  notion  that  there  was  anything 
funny  in  it.  But  his  mother  and  sister  caught  the 


148  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

ludicrous  effect  of  the  play  on  the  words,  and  began 
to  laugh. 

A  person  older  than  Tom  and  withal  better  versed 
in  repartee,  would  have  accepted  this  laugh  as  a  tri- 
bute. But  Tom  understood  it  in  no  other  light  than 
as  an  affront  to  his  dignity.  However,  as  two  upon 
one  are  long  odds  in  an  argument,  and  as  a  laugh  is 
the  hardest  thing  in  the  world  to  argue  against,  Tom 
wisely  concluded  to  pocket  the  offence,  lest  by  going 
further,  he  should  fare  worse.  Besides,  the  expira- 
tion of  the  time  allowed  him  for  breakfast,  furnished 
an  admirable  pretext  for  a  retreat,  which  he  accom- 
plished without  being  pursued  by  the  enemy. 

From  the  moment  of  "Wilson's  arrival,  one  of  the 
most  perplexing  problems  was,  how  to  keep  the 
curiosity  of  these  children  in  a  quiescent  state  ?  How 
to  gratify  it,  without  increasing  it  ?  And,  above  all, 
how  to  prevent  the  arrangement  with  uncle  Sam  from 
being  so  interesting  to  them,  that  they  should  make 
it  a  subject  of  comment  to  third  persons  ?  This  was 
a  knotty  point  for  mother  and  uncle.  They  had 
much  solicitous  consultation  upon  it.  And  at  length 
they  decided  that  the  simplest  course  was  the  safest : 
namely,  that  the  uncle  was  in  town  on  a  little  private 
business,  and  his  being  there  must  not  be  mentioned 
to  any  one  outside  of  the  house. 


CHAPTEK   XYI. 

BUM   AND   WATER. 

THE  officer's  intimation  to  Rabbit  that  he  had  bet- 
ter sleep  himself  sober,  was  given  in  a  friendly  spirit. 
Yet  the  good  counsel  slept  in  a  foolish  ear :  at  least, 
an  unconscious  ear.  But  that  was  not  the  fault  of 
the  officer.  Was  it  for  him  to  find  ears,  brains,  or 
apprehension  for  his  prisoners  ?  Yet,  nevertheless, — 
and  the  fact  deserves  honorable  mention,  as  an  ex- 
ception to  the  general  rule  of  gratuitous  advice — 
although  Rabbit  was  unconscious  of  the  admonition, 
he  gave  heed  to  it :  he  followed  the  offered  advice  : 
at  least,  he  slept  away  with  all  his  might ;  and  if 
sleep  didn't  bring  sobriety,  it  wasn't  for  want  of  hard 
snoring. 

Meantime,  Rabbit's  accommodations  were  of  the 
most  substantial  character.  Oak  and  iron,  with  the 
exception  of  straw  and  woollen,  were  the  frailest 
materials  on  the  premises.  ~No  doubt,  therefore,  they 
would  last  his  time.  But  his  time  was  of  the 
longest.  The  apartment  he  occupied  was  arranged 
for  the  accommodation  of  perhaps  twelve  persons ; 
and  whenever  the  room  was  full,  the  occupants,  if 
not  strictly  bedfellows,  were  terribly  near  it.  In 
this  instance,  absentees  had  become  the  companions 
of  Rabbit,  and  again  become  absentees,  while  he 
slept  on. 

The  rule  of  confinement  applicable  to  parties  found 


150  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   KOE. 

intoxicated  in  the  streets,  is  a  shut-up  in  the  Tombs 
for  ten  days  ;  or,  a  fine  of  ten  dollars  :  at  the  prison- 
er's option.  But  the  "  time  "  of  a  common  drunkard 
is  never  worth  a  dollar  a  day  to  anybody  but  the 
man  who  sells  him  liquor  :  hence,  he  usually  finds  it 
advantageous,  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view,  to  serve 
his  time  out,  for  the  authorities  will  not  permit  him 
to  starve  while  he  is  "  in." 

At  length,  without  knowing  where  he  was,  or  what 
o'clock  it  was,  Rabbit — in  the  dead  waste  and  mid- 
dle of  the  night — returned  to  a  semi-consciousness  of 
being  somewhere.  He  probably  had  been  dreaming 
of  some  dear  friend,  for  he  thrust  out  his  right  hand 
with  some  force,  saying, 

"  Damn  it,  I  tell  you  no  !" 

Whatever  were  the  merits  of  the  question  thus 
summarily  voted  upon,  the  noes  decidedly  had  it. 
For  the  clinched  hand  of  the  toper  came  into  rude 
contact  with  the  nose  of  a  very  near  neighbor,  who 
had  been  deposited  by  the  side  of  Rabbit  about  two 
hours  previously. 

As  it  chanced,  this  neighbor,  though  ostensibly 
committed  for  drunkenness,  had  in  reality  been  play- 
ing "old  soger  for  a  night's  lodging  at  the  city's 
expense,  and  rations  for  ten  days  thereafter :  his 
reason  being  the  same  as  is  given  by  a  bank  when 
they  protest  a  note — "  no  funds."  He  was  therefore 
easily  waked ;  and  had,  in  fact,  already  opened  his 
eyes  at  the  first  two  words  of  Rabbit's  exclamation, 
herein-above  quoted.  He  saw  nothing  when  he 
opened  his  eyes,  because  the  gas  lights  were  turned 
down  to  a  small  point.  But  the  moment  he  shut 
them  again,  which  he  did  at  the  broad  hint  of  Rab- 
bit's fist,  he  saw  stars  innumerable.  There  is  some- 


JOHN   DOE   AND    RICHARD    ROE.  151 

thing  very  curious  in  this  faculty  of  seeing  stars  with, 
one's  eyes  shut.  Probably,  electricity  is  at  the  bot- 
tom of  it. 

Whether  owing  to  the  general  darkness  of  the 
place,  or  to  the  obfuscation  incident  to  a  sudden 
blow  between  the  eyes,  the  individual  thus  emphatic- 
ally assailed,  as  he  half  rose  in  his  couch  for  ven- 
geance on  the  rude  disturber  of  his  pillow,  pitched 
into  his  immediate  neighbor  on  the  right — which, 
however,  was  the  wrong,  because  Rabbit  lay  on  his 
left.  This  new  customer  had  been  brought  in,  com- 
fortably tipsy,  early  in  the  evening,  and  was  now  in 
prime  condition  to  be  roused  up  for  a  fight.  The 
aggressor  had  the  best  chance  in  the  contest,  by  vir- 
tue of  having  taken  the  initiative  and  put  in  the  first 
blow ;  but  his  assault  was  so  ill-directed,  owing  to 
his  confusion  and  impetuosity,  that  he  failed  to  gain 
the  full  advantage  of  that  movement  and  really 
accomplished  nothing  beyond  waking  his  antagonist. 
In  both  senses  he  waked  up  the  wrong  passenger. 

The  contest  was  exceedingly  animated,  for  the  men 
were  well  matched.  Their  position  at  the  outset  ren- 
dered the  usual  formality  of  knocking  each  other 
down,  inconvenient  and  unnecessary,  as  both  were 
down  already  :  so,  it  was  literally  rough  and  tumble. 
Their  tumbling  soon  brought  them  into  contact  with 
other  strange  bedfellows — for,  if  the  platform  on 
which  they  all  lay  was  in  any  sense  composed  of  mov- 
able parts,  they  were  placed  so  closely  together  as  to 
be  practically  but  one — and,  in  an  inappreciable 
space  of  material  time,  some  eight  or  ten  men  be- 
came involved  in  the  melee :  each  hitting  and  being 
hit,  cursing  and  being  cursed,  as  rapidly  as  the  fists 
and  tongues  of  the  several  belligerents  could  fly. 


152  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

The  tongues  had  this  advantage,  that  the  want  of 
light  offered  no  obstacle  to  their  free  exercise. 

When  rowdies  are  entertaining  themselves  with  a 
fight  in  the  street,  the  mere  appearance  of  a  police- 
man has  a  sedative  effect  on  some  of  the  combatants, 
while  the  strong  arm  of  arrest  brings  the  more  per- 
severing to  terms.  But  when  the  same  men  are 
arrested  and  locked  up,  the  mere  appearance  of 
policemen  has  very  little  effect  upon  them  :  arrest 
and  lock  up  having  already  done  their  worst.  Conse- 
quently, neither  the  sudden  lighting  up  of  the  arena, 
nor  the  entrance  of  a  squad  of  city-guardians  who 
rushed  in  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  disturbance, 
had  any  beneficial  effect  on  the  present  war.  Nor 
did  the  threats  and  warnings  of  the  officers  produce 
any  better  result :  for  the  reason,  perhaps,  that  not  a 
syllable  of  threat  or  warning  could  be  heard.  The 
noise  of  those  who  fought,  exceeded  that  of  those 
who  sought  to  quell  the  fight,  in  the  proportion  of 
two  to  one. 

Fortunately  for  the  prisoners,  the  officer  in  com- 
mand had  some  compassion  for  the  drunken  fools 
under  his  charge  ;  and  instead  of  directing  the  sum- 
mary process  of  an  attack  with  clubs,  he  ordered 
one  of  his  subordinates  to  unwind  the  coil  of  hose 
attached  to  the  Croton  water  cock  for  security  against 
fire,  and  to  bring  him  the  pipe.  This  was  the  work 
of  a  moment.  The  officer  then  brought  the  pipe  to 
aim  on  a  group  where  the  heads  were  thickest, 
turned  the  stop,  and  let  fly.  The  effect  was  terrific  ! 
"Water  flies  from  a  hose-pipe  at  the  rate  of  about  two 
hundred  feet  in  a  second  :  and,  allowing  the  muzzle 
to  be  a  quarter  of  an  inch  in  diameter,  you  will  easily 
see  what  an  amount  of  the  fluid,  at  that  stunning 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHAKD   EOE.  153 

rate  of  speed,  must  have  dashed  remorselessly  into 
the  eyes,  ears  and  mouths  of  the  inebriates,  and  how 
utterly  they  must  have  been  overwhelmed  by  it.  Of 
course,  the  fight  was  at  an  end. 

"  Now,"  said  the  officer,  "  stow  yourselves  away 
in  your  bunks.  And  the  first  man  who  speaks  one 
word,  good,  bad  or  indifferent,  shall  have  a  broken 
head  for  his  trouble.  You  may  thank  your  stars 
that  your  heads  are  not  all  broken  as  it  is." 

The  prisoners  were  still  in  a  state  of  perplexity,  as 
to  how  they  became  involved  in  this  predicament. 
But  they  had  sense  enough  to  see  that,  however  they 
became  so,  the  officer  was  in  earnest,  and  that  their 
better  part  of  valor  was — submission.  Accordingly, 
before  many  minutes  had  elapsed,  they  all  were,  or 
appeared  to  be,  fast  asleep. 


Doctor  Perkins  may  be  as  magnificent  as  he 
pleases  on  the  "  infernal  Institution."  He  may 
delight  his  gaping  hearers  with  the  details  of  its 
degrading  effect  on  k'  our  colored  brethren,"  till  they 
all  honestly  believe  that  slavery  is  the  only  sin  now 
existing  in  this  glorious  republic.  Yet,  here  is  a  sin 
at  Doctor  Perkins's  very  elbow,  which  reduces  men 
•  below  the  slave,  below  anything  that  bears  the  form 
of  humanity.  Which  makes  them  unreasoning 
brutes,  lying  about  the  streets,  to  be  carted  thence 
into  "  pens  "  where  they  necessarily  receive  the  treat- 
ment of  brutes.  Which  alternately  makes  them 
monsters  and  slaves — monsters,  at  their  own  hovels, 
where  they  inflict  on  their  wives  and  children  worse 
treatment  than  the  driver  can  inflict  on  the  negro  : 

7* 


154  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

slaves,  when  imprisoned  for  drunkenness  and  requir- 
ing treatment  more  degrading  than  the  chain  and  the 
lash.  And  this  view  of  intemperance  involves  results 
only  to  the  individual  subject  and  his  belongings  : 
whereas,  almost  every  offence  in  the  calendar  of 
crime  is  directly  traceable  to  the  same  source :  which, 
therefore,  becomes  the  heaviest  curse  of  our  social 
organization. 

The  "  apostle  of  temperance  "  may  here  raise  his 
head  majestically,  and  say  "  have  I  not  labored  to 
subdue  this  curse,  and  spent  my  time'  and  my  strength 
for  its  overthrow  ?  and  warned  you,  oh  ye  people, 
what  would  come  of  it,  if  ye  would  not  join  hands 
with  me  in  this  holy  crusade  ?" 

Unfortunately,  Messrs.  Apostles,  that  is  all  true ! 
If  you,  and  such  as  you,  had  not  attached  yourselves 
and  your  ultraism  to  a  cause  that  was  a  "  holy  cru- 
sade "  at  the  outset ;  if  you,  and  such  as  you,  had 
not  sacrilegiously  repudiated  the  practice  of  our 
Saviour  by  sanctimoniously  attempting  to  transform 
wine  into  water  ;  and  if  you,  and  such  as  yon,  had 
let  alone  and  stood  aloof  from  an  enterprise  that  was 
doing  "better  than  well  when  you  obtruded  your  offi- 
cious tinkering  into  its  conduct,  and  finally  by  your 
zeal  without  knowledge  brought  it  down  to  be  a 
hissing,  a  scorn,  a  byword  for  all  people :  then  the 
spirits  of  the  great  originators  of  that  enterprise 
would  not  have  reason  to  look  down  from  their  high 
places  and  "  curse  "  you  for  preventing  the  extermi- 
nation of  the  curse. 

The  intemperance  of  the  rabid  "  Temperance  Re- 
formers "  has  put  back  the  progress  of  rational  "  tem- 
perance "  for  half  a  century. 


CHAPTEE   XYII. 

PKOGKESS. 

THE  task  undertaken  by  Snap  proved  to  be  no 
sinecure.  His  project  was  based  on  the  theory  that 
Wilson  had  not  left  the  city,  and  that  theory  he  saw 
no  occasion  to  abandon.  On  the  contrary,  the  con- 
tinued absence  of  intelligence  of  the  fugitive  from 
any  quarter,  confirmed  him  more  and  more  in  his 
original  belief.  But,  though  this  conviction  was 
essential  to  the  search,  it  by  itself  was  of  little  prac- 
tical value.  To  be  even  certain  that  Wilson  was 
in  New-York,  was  only  a  short  step  toward  finding 
him. 

Snap  had  remarked  to  Mr.  Doe  that  this  search 
was  to  be  a  matter  of  shoe-leather,  umbrellas  and 
eyes.  And  his  remark  was  quite  correct.  Shoe- 
leather  had  suffered.  Umbrellas  had  suffered. 
And  if  eyes  had  not  suffered,  their  exemption 
could  be  attributed  to  nothing  but  the  superiority  of 
their  materials.  They  certainly  had  been  kept  well 
at  work. 

Snap's  want  of  success  could  be  no  matter  of  rea- 
sonable surprise.  The  man  had  very  little  to  go 
upon.  A  daguerreotype  likeness  of  the  bust  of  a 
person  with, whom  he  had  no  previous  acquaintance  : 
which  person  would  keep  snug  by  daylight,  would 
never  venture  out  of  doors  except  in  darkness  and 
in  some  one  of  a  hundred  possible  disguises,  and 


156  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   KOE. 

4 

would  be  in  the  streets  only  at  intervals  and  never 
at  any  given  point  in  the  area  of  a  large  city  for 
more  than  a  second  of  time — this  was  the  sum  total 
of  the  case :  and  this  presented  rather  an  aggrega- 
tion of  discouragements  than  a  ground  of  hope  for 
success. 

Snap  held  occasional  interviews  with  Messrs.  Doe 
and  Traverse,  and  the  three  strained  their  mental  vis- 
ion to  the  utmost,  to  penetrate  the  mystery ;  but  it 
remained  a  mystery  still. 

"  One  thing  in  this  business,"  said  Snap  to  his  em- 
ployers, "  puzzles  me  more  than  all  the  rest.  And 
that  is,  where  the  fellow  gets  money  from." 

"  Money  !"said  Doe  and  Traverse,  both  in  a  breath. 

"  Money,"  repeated  Snap,  quietly  and  positively. 
"  He  has  to  live  and  to  pay  somebody  for  helping 
him  to  keep  hid  so  close.  Now,  you  see,  where  does 
the  money  come  from  ?" 

On  this  hint,  Doe  and  Traverse  exchanged  glances. 
And,  money  being  mentioned,  it  occurred  to  Doe  to 
hand  over  to  Snap  a  second  (or  third)  instalment  of 
the  promised  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  Mr. 
Doe  said  that  he  and  Traverse  would  study  up  the 
money  question,  and  meantime,  Snap  must  continue 
his  task. 

"  There,"  said  Doe  to  Traverse,  after  Snap  with- 
drew, "  there  is  the  finger  of  Richard  Roe  again." 

"  ~No  doubt  of  it,"  replied  Traverse.  "  Our  in- 
quiries have  led  us  to  know  that  Wilson  has  no 
friends  able  to  supply  him  with  money.  There  cer- 
tainly is  some  dark  complication  between  those  two 
men  ;  and  if  we  could  but  get  a  clue  to  it,  we 
would  make  short  work  of  '  John  Doe  against  Riehr 
ard  Roe.'  " 


JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHARD   EOE.  157 

"  That's  verv  true,"  said  Doe.  "  Oh,  if  we  could 
but  get  that  clue !  By  the  way,  wouldn't  it  be  a 
good  joke  if'  Tom  could  help  us  out  of  this  money 
mystery  ?  He  did  wonders  on  the  chloroform." 

"  Tom  happens  to  deal  in  chloroform,"  answered 
Traverse  :  "  which  makes  all  the  difference.  Money 
matters,  I  imagine,  are  rather  out  of  his  line." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by%the  entrance 
of  Miss  Doe  and  her  niece,  accompanied  by  the 
reverend  Mr.  Duncan,  all  just  returned  from  a  walk. 

Mutual  salutations  and  explanations  being  dis- 
posed of,  Mr.  Duncan  was  invited  to  remain  for  tea. 
His  relation  with  the  Does — pastor  and  parishioners 
— rendered  him  always  a  welcome  guest :  and  as  he 
was  a  widower  without  children,  who  therefore  dis- 
appointed no  one  by  absence  from  his  own  house,  he 
often  availed  himself  of  the  welcome.  It  is  proper 
to  remark  that  Mr.  Duncan  had  attained  the  age 
when  many  clergymen  attain  the  D.D. ;  but  he 
had  more  than  once  refused  that  proffered  distinc- 
tion. 

"  We  have  just  been  speaking  of  the  Jenkinses," 
said  Miss  Doe  to  her  brother.  "  They  left  their  own 
church  and  came  to  ours  so  suddenly,  they  must  have 
had  good  reasons  for  the  movement." 

"  I  should  think,"  replied  Doe,  "  that  their  having 
endured  Doctor  Perkins's  monomania  for  seven  yeaijs 
furnishes  at  least  seven  good  reasons  for  the  change. 
If  /  were  to  work  out  the  problem,  I  should  multiply 
the  seven  by  fifty-two." 

Mr.  Duncan,  wishing  to  lead  the  conversation 
away  from  the  merits  of  a  brother  clergyman,  re- 
marked that  the  Jenkins  children  were  very  interest- 
ing  and  attractive. 


158  JOHN   DOE   AND    RICHARD   ROE. 

Jane  thought  little  Fred  Jenkins  was  one  of  the 
sweetest  boys  she  ever  saw.  Traverse  thought  that 
little  Mary  was  entitled  to  the  preference.  And 
Miss  Doe  altogether  preferred  Robert,  who  was  the 
head  of  the  group  in  age,  size  and  deportment.  The 
Jenkinses  had  evidently  made  a  lodgment  in  the  re- 
gard of  the  Does. 

"  I  never  knew  much  of  the  differences  between 
the  doctor  and  his  wife,"  said  Miss  Doe,  "  although 
when  a  matter  is  so  much  talked  of  as  that  has  been, 
one  must  hear  something.  But  I  am  glad  to  find 
among  our  friends  a  disposition  to  forget  what  the 
parties  themselves  have  reconciled.  The  peace  of 
families  is  of  as  much  importance  as  the  peace  of  na- 
tions." 

"  Much  more  so,"  said  Mr.  Duncan,  "  to  the  indi- 
viduals immediately  concerned.  I  think  there  must 
have  been  busy  meddlers  and  bad  advisers  in  that 
affair." 

"  Of  whom,  in  the  latter  category,"  said  Doe,  "  I'll 
answer  for  it,  Doctor  Perkins  was  one." 

"  I  have  no  knowledge  of  that,"  replied  Mr.  Dun- 
can, "  and  I  had  no  such  thought  when  I  made  my 
remark.  I  should  hope  that  if  he  had  anything  to 
do  with  it,  he  fearlessly  performed  his  duty." 

"  Unfortunately,"  returned  Doe,  "  that's  just  what 
lie  never  did  on  any  occasion.  He  never  committed 
himself  to  anything  but  the  wrong  side  of  the  nig- 
ger-question— wrong,  I  mean,  in  his  way  of  treating 
it." 

"  My  good  friend,"  interposed  Mr.  Duncan,  "  let 
me  keep  the  discussion  within  the  limits  I  contem- 
plated. Speaking  generally,  family  troubles  are 
always  aggravated  by  outside  '  friends,'  as  they  call 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  159 

themselves.  To  be  forced  into  confidences  of  this 
nature,  is  one  of  the  incidents  of  my  profession: 
and  I  have  seldom  known  an  instance  where  the 
difficulties  have  not  been  rendered  almost  hopeless 
by  the  interference  of  third  parties.  Indeed,  third 
parties  often  create  the  difficulty  in  the  first  place. 
I  have  many  a  time  thought  that  if  I  could  persuade 
the  people  of  my  congregation  to  mind  their  own 
business,  as  St.  Paul  wished  the  Thessalonians  to  do, 
I  should  have  rendered  them  the  greatest  temporal 
service  in  the  power  of  a  clergyman.  Again,  it  is  a 
fatal  error  for  a  wife  to  carry  her  supposed  grievances 
to  indiscreet  friends.  When  that  step  is  taken,  the 
evil  is  well  nigh  past  remedy." 

"  Is  it  only  *  a  wife  '  who  falls  into  that  error,  Mr. 
Duncan  2"  inquired  Miss  Doe,  sufficiently  alive  to  the 
"  rights  of  women,." 

"  I  am  quite  sure,"  replied  the  clergyman,  "  that 
you,  Miss  Doe,  will  not  suspect  me  of  injustice  or  dis- 
courtesy to  your  sex,  if  I  remark,  that  wives  are 
much  more  prone  to  jealousy  than  their  husbands. 
In  my  capacity  of  a  professional  and  confidential 
referee,  I  certainly  have  found  it  so." 

"  Perhaps,"  Miss  Doe  intimated,  "  they  more  fre- 
quently have  cause  for  being  jealous." 

"  Still  again,"  persisted  Mr.  Duncan,  "  I  must  say 
I  think  not.  Of  all  the  complaints  of  that  sort  that 
my  position  has  compelled  me  to  hear,  I  have  found 
few  that  had  any  real  foundation ;  and  even  when 
there  was  some  ground " 

"  And  even  when  there  was  some  ground,"  inter- 
rupted Doe,  as  Mr.  Duncan  hesitated  how  to  charac- 
terize the  exceptions,  "  I'll  answer  for  it,  if  the  wives 
had  some  wrong,  the  husbands  had  much  provocation." 


160  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   ROE. 

A  smile  which  showed  itself,  on  the  pleasant 
features  of  Mr.  Duncan,  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to 
repress  it,  betrayed  the  probable  accuracy  of  Doe's 
conjecture. 

"  Pshaw,  John  !"  exclaimed  Miss  Doe,  "  you  are 
an  unbeliever  in  everything,  but  the  superiority  of 
your  own  sex.  But,  Mr.  Duncan,"  she  continued, 
turning  to  the  clergyman,  "  since  you  are  so  well 
aware  of  the  delinquencies  of  our  sex,  I  think  you 
should  propose  a  remedy." 

"  I  assure  you,  my  dear  Miss  Doe,"  he  replied, 
"  that  when  I  find  myself  in  the  unpleasant  predica- 
ment of  listening  to  a  complaining  wife,  I  use  my 
utmost  endeavors  to  persuade  her  to  seek  a  remedy 
for  herself.  I  advise  her,  first,  to  take  nothing  against 
her  husband  for  granted  ;  secondly,  to  shut  her  ears 
against  the  information  or  advice  of  volunteer  friends ; 
and  thirdly,  to  seal  her  own  lips  as  to  all  third  per- 
sons. If,  on  calm  reflection,  she  believes  she  has 
good  reason  to  suspect  her  husband  of  indifference  or 
wrong  toward  herself,  I  advise  her  to  set  about  woo- 
ing him  back  to  his  allegiance.  In  that  task,  she 
will  succeed,  and  success  will  be  happiness.  But  the 
more  common  effort  to  quarrel  a  husband  back  to  his 
allegiance — to  bully  him  into  affection — ends  in 
hopeless  estrangement,  at  the  least.  The  remedy, 
therefore,  that  I  propose,  is  the  conciliatory  course. 
But  for  a  simple  and  universal  preventive,  which  is 
better  than  any  remedy,  I  would  advise  a  total  revo- 
lution in  female  education.  I  would  have  girls 
taught  at  school  what  in  after  life  they  will  be  called 
on  to  practise :  not  metaphysics ;  not  recondite 
science  ;  not  a  confusion  of  tongues ;  but  something 
which,  in  the  domestic  relation,  they  are  TO  DO, 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  161 

Nothing  abstract,  but  concrete  training  for  what  are 
to  them  life's  professions :  namely,  the  offices  of  a 
wife,  a  mother  and  a  mistress  of  the  Home  Depart- 
ment. Young  men  are  trained  to  ifieir  professions 
and  vocations  :  why  should  young  women  waste  their 
spring-time  in  learning  practical  frivolities,  so  that 
when  they  come  to  the  real  business  of  life,  they  find 
themselves  totally  incapable  of  discharging  its  duties? 
Pray,  excuse  my  vehemence  :  but,  on  my  word,  when 
I  now-a-days  read  a  prospectus  of  a  young  ladies' 
school  and  see  what  a  parade  is  made  of  '  branches ' 
which  the  girls  can  never  more  than  touch  with  the 
tips  of  their  fingers,  and  which  if,  by  miracle,  one  of 
them  should  grasp,  would  crumble  to  dust  in  her 
hands :  and  when  I  see,  year  after  year,  these  printed 
lists  of  '  branches '  ostentatiously  increased  and  each 
competing  principal  claiming  a  superiority  over  her 
rivals  by  reason  of,  and  in  proportion  to,  the  greater 
length  of  her  list — as,  '  Miss  Smith  teaches  only 
seventy-two  branches,  and  I  teach  seventy-nine' — I 
am  tempted  to  wish  the  whole  institution  abolished, 
and  that  no  book  but  Murray's  grammar  should  be 
used  in  female  education.  This  may  be  ultraism,  but 
at  least  it  is  ultraism  in  the  cause  of  common-sense. 
And  now.  in  conclusion,  the  moral  of  all  this  is  on 
the  surface.  If  women  are  trained  to  the  practical 
duties  of  life  and  made  to  become  attached  to  them 
by  the  fact  of  understanding  them  and  appreciating 
their  importance,  they  will  devote  themselves  to  their 
own  households,  each  for  her  own  self:  and  then  they 
will  have  no  time  to  look  after  the  affairs  of  their 
neighbors.  They  will,  in  short — to  complete  the 
quotation  from  St.  Paul — '  study  to  be  quiet,  to  do 
their  own  business,  and  to  work  with  their  own 


162  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   ROE. 

hands '  in  whatever  '  work,'  properly  belongs  to  their 
station." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Doe,  at  length  breaking  the 
pause  that  followed  the  clergyman's  speech,  "  I  am 
much  obliged  to  you  for  your  homily.  You  have 
expressed  my  sentiments  to  a  T." 

"  Which,"  added  Miss  Doe,  "  is  as  much  as  to  say 
that  Mr.  Duncan  is  as  great  a  heretic  as  yourself. 
However,  to  be  very  candid,  I  do  not  think  Mr.  Dun- 
can is  altogether  wrong  in  his  views.  I  have  often 
wondered  what  answer  could  be  given  by  the  pro- 
moters of  this  method  of  female  education,  to  the 
question — why  do  you  teach,  or  rather  attempt  to 
teach,  all  these  things  to  young  ladies  ?  Is  it  for  their 
benefit,  or  your  own  ?" 

"  I  would  like  to  inquire,"  said  Jane,  with  all  fitting 
humility,  "  what  is  to  become  of  me  ?  I  have  been 
finished  on  this  proscribed  system,  and  I  don't  fancy 
beginning  again." 

"  Indeed,  my  dear  child,"  replied  her  aunt,  "  you 
are  not  finished  on  the  present  s}Tstem  at  all.  I 
flatter  myself  that,  whatever  risks  you  may  have  run 
in  the  embellishing  process,  you  have  concurrently 
gained  at  home  as  much  solid  practical  knowledge  as 
any  of  your  ancestry  had — and  that's  saying  a  great 
deal,  though  I  say  it  who  shouldn't  say  it." 

"  Which,"  interposed  Traverse,  "  is  as  much  as  to 
say,  that  if  a  young  lady  of  the  present  day  is  taught 
at  home  all  she  ought  to  know,  her  going  to  a  modern 
school  will  not  ruin  her." 

"  That's  it,  precisely,"  said  Mr.  Duncan  ;  "  and 
that's  the  best  that  can  be  said  for  the  present  system 
of  female  education,  speaking  generally.  There  is 
one  honorable  exception  to  this,  in  a  case  where  the 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  163 

proprietor  is  an  old  friend  of  mine,  and  whose  name  I 
suppress  for  obvious  reasons." 

Upon  which,  Peter,  who  hadn't  had  a  bad  turn 
for  several  weeks,  summoned  the  family  party  to  tea. 

"  Mr.  Duncan,"  said  Traverse,  when  they  were 
seated  at  the  tea-table,  "  we  were  speaking  not  long 
since  of  the  great  ingenuity  of  the  men  of  our  day,  as 
developed  in  mechanical  inventions ;  and  you  held 
this  condition  of  things  to  be  one  of  the  evidences  of 
the  increasing  intelligence  of  the  age." 

"Yes,  certainly ;' such  was  my  inference,"  said 
Mr.  Duncan. 

"Would  you  not,  then,  hold  the  invention  of 
amusements,  though  of  less  practical  value,  to  be 
nevertheless  equal  evidence  of  intelligence  ?"  pursued 
Traverse. 

"Of  course,  I  would,"  replied  Mr.  Duncan,  "  if  the 
thing  invented  addressed  itself  to  the  mind  of  edu- 
cated people  :  indeed,  in  that  case,  the  result  would 
imply,  so  to  speak,  a  more  intellectual  intelligence 
than  other  inventions." 

"  Then,"  continued  Traverse,  "  how  do  you  rate 
the  intelligence  of  a  people,  some  of  them  dating 
back  many  centuries,  who  produced  the  great  social 
games  that  have  come  down  to  us — draughts,  back- 
gammon, whist  and  chess?  Games  marvellously 
adapted  to  all  classes  of  mind  :  games,  two  at  least 
of  which  the  highest  minds  have  never  thoroughly 
mastered ;  which  have  amused,  solaced,  occupied 
mankind  for  many  generations;  and  which  no  modern 
ingenuity  has  been  able  to  supersede,  nor  even  in  the 
slightest  degree  to  improve — games,  in  a  weird,  and 
in  the  fullest  and  most  absolute  sense  of  the  word, 
that  are  perfect  f" 


164:  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   ROE. 

tl  There  can  be  but  one  answer  to  your  question, 
Mr.  Traverse,"  the  clergyman  replied ;  "  and  that  you 
have  virtually  supplied  by  your  own  commentary. 
Clearly,  the  intelligence  that  invented  those  games 
was  of  the  very  highest  order :  and,  in  their  mar- 
vellous adaptation  to  the  taste  and  capacity  of  all 
classes  of  people,  we  find  not  only  the  inspiration  of 
genius,  but  a  creative  power  almost  beyond  the  pre- 
rogative of  genius.  The  perfection  of  those  games, 
and  the  vast  superiority  attained  by  the  old  masters 
over  all  their  imitators  in  the  arts  of  painting,  sculp- 
ture and  architecture,  may  well  admonish  the  wisest 
of  our  day  to  speak  with  becoming  reverence  of  '  the 
wisdom  of  the  ancients.'  That  phrase  involves  much 
more  than  is  popularly  attributed  to  it." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A   VALENTINE. 

MRS.  SWIFT  could  not  quite  forgive  her  dearest  and 
best  friend,  Mrs.  Jenkins,  for  changing  her  mind 
about  the  separation  so  distinctly  agreed  on  between 
the  two  ladies  ;  and  especially  for  not  giving  her, 
Mrs.  Swift,  official  notice  of  the  change.  She  did  not 
like  it,  to  have  been  put  to  the  expense  of  so  much 
good  advice,  all  for  nothing.  And  she  did  not  like  to 
be  held  responsible  by  some  of  her  "  dear  five  hun- 
dred" for  mysteriously  and  confidentially  whispering 
a  secret  in  advance  of  the  fact,  which  proved  to  be  a 
false  report. 

To  be  sure,  her  giving  currency  to  such  a  report 
was  a  violation  of  confidence  as  toward  her  dearest 
and  best  friend;  but  she  had  been  very  cautious 
about  telling  the  story  :  she  had  never  even  hinted  at 
it  to  any  other  than  very  discreet  people,  nor  had  she 
repeated  it  otherwise  than  under  the  most  solemn 
pledges  of  secrecy — which  pledges  were  kept  as  well 
as  such  pledges  are  wont  to  be.  She  was  therefore 
clearly  of  opinion  that  her  dear  Louisa  had  no  busi- 
ness to  make  up  her  quarrel  with  her  husband,  pri- 
vately ;  and  leave  her,  Mrs.  Swift,  in  the  lurch.  She 
had  been  "in"  at  the  starting  of  the  secret,  and  she 
felt  entitled  to  have  been  in  at  its  death. 

The  question  of  the  doctor's  complication  in  the 
matters  charged  by  his  wife,  was  not  the  sort  of  thing 

165 


166  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

to  interest  Mrs.  Swift.  Her  object  was  to  swim  in 
other  people's  troubled  waters,  without  caring  how 
they  became  troubled.  She  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  mere  facts  of  such  a  case.  Facts  are  stubborn 
things  ;  and,  of  all  things,  she  disliked  stubbornness. 
It  is  a  quality  which,  from  the  very  bottom  of  her 
heart,  she  despised.  As  the  case  was  presented  to 
her,  her  dearest  and  best  friend  was  in  trouble  ;  that 
was  "  fact"  enough  for  Mrs.  Swift.  And  the  duty  of 
Mrs.  Swift  was  simply  to  get  her  friend  out — or,  help 
her  further  in — as  luck  would  have  it.  In  view  of 
all  this,  Mrs.  Swift,  as  aforesaid,  was  aggrieved. 

To  be  sure,  the  Jenkinses,  in  their  new  position  of 
unity,  justified  the  proverb :  they  "  stood,"  and  stood 
strong,  in  society.  They  were  of  the  FF's ;  they 
were  rich ;  they  were  associated  with  all  the  best 
people.  They  were  therefore  to  be  cultivated  by  all 
means  and  more  than  ever.  Hence,  Mrs.  Swift 
could  not  afford  to  be  otherwise  than  on  the  best 
terms  with  her  dearest  and  best  friend — if  she  could 
help  herself. 

But,  while  she  was  thus  reasoning  up  the  case,  as 
if  her  continued  intimacy  with  her  dear  Louisa  was 
quite  at  her  own  option,  she  had  a  faint  suspicion  of 
a  coolness  on  the  part  of  that  lady.  She  began  to 
catch  the  inkling  of  an  idea  that  the  disregard  of  her 
ready  advice  might  be  accompanied  by  a  disap- 
proval of  its  utterance :  for,  when  people  have 
escaped  from  danger,  and  begin  to  reflect  on  the 
counsel  that  would  have  p'lunged  them  into  it  if  fol- 
lowed, their  thanks  for  such  counsel  are  very  apt  to 
be  proportioned  to  the  value  of  the  counsel — even  if 
the  counsel  was  of  their  own  seeking.  And  that  goes 
to  show  the  danger  of  giving  advice  to  a  friend  under 


JOHN   DOE   AKD   EICHAED   ROE.  167 

any  circumstances  whatever.  If  the  advice  is'fol- 
lowed  and  proves  to  have  been  good,  the  party  bene- 
fited will  not  readily  forgive  your  superior  sagacity : 
and,  whether  followed  or  not,  if  it  proves  to  have 
been  bad,  you  may  count  on  being  held  responsible 
for  all  the  actual  or  possible  evil  that  did  or  could 
come  of  it. 

In  the  present  case,  when  Mrs.  Jenkins  fairly  came 
to  herself,  and  was  able  coolly  to  estimate  the  ser- 
vices of  Mrs.  Swift,  she  could  not  repress  a  mental 
execration  on  that  lady's  mischievous  heartlessness ; 
although  she  was  candid  enough  to  confess  to  herself 
that  she  sought  what  she  found — thus  forming  an 
exception  to  a  general  rule,  which  other  Mrs.  Swifts 
had  better  not  presume  upon  ! 

When,  therefore,  Mrs.  Swift  called  on  Mrs.  Jenk- 
ins— which  she  did  soon  after  the  ball — with  a  view 
to  ascertain  how  the  land  lay,  her  dear  Louisa 
received  her  in  the  usual  way.  There  might  have 
been  a  slight  hesitancy  and  embarrassment  on  both 
sides ;  for  that  is  often  the  fact,  when  people  meet, 
with  a  mutual  consciousness  that  something  has 
been,  or  may  have  been,  amiss:  but  to  a  third 
person,  nothing  of  the  kind  would  have  been  percep- 
tible. 

After  the  first  greetings  were  over,  and  a  suffi- 
ciency of  compliments  and  disclaimers  about  the  ball, 
had  been  exchanged,  the  conversation  became  some- 
what disconnected:  which,  again,  was  an  indication 
of  restraint — as  if  each  lady,  having  in  her  mind 
something  to  be  avoided,  was  forced  to  let  her  tongue 
run  one  way  while  her  thoughts  were  running  an- 
other way.  When  people  find  themselves  so  situated, 
they  have  a  common  dread  of  a  pause :  and,  rather 


168  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

than  pause,  they  will  repeat  a  thing  two  or  three 
times ;  or,  start  off  on  something  so  far  from  the 
track,  that  the  association  of  ideas  becomes  unwont- 
edly  mysterious. 

"  I  was  so  much  amused  at  the  Herald's  account  of 
the  ball!"  said  Mrs.  Swift  just  in  time  to  save  a 
pause,  although  she  had  made  that  very  remark  no 
less  than  three  times  before. 

"  I  did  not  see  it,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Jenkins ;  "  I  was 
so  much  occupied  with  getting  over  the  ball,  that  I 
had  no  leisure  to  read  what  the  newspapers  said  of 
it ;"  being  the  third  time  she  had  made  that  identi- 
cal reply. 

"  So,  you  have  left  our  church,  Louisa  ?"  said  Mrs. 
Swift,  abruptly  saving  another  pause,  and  flattering 
herself  that  the  church  was  safe  ground. 

It  happened,  however,  that  when  the  mutual  ex- 
planations of  doctor  Jenkins  and  his  wife  brought  to 
the  doctor's  knowledge  their  pastor's  disreputable 
style  of  advice  to  his  parishioner,  the  disgusted  cou- 
ple resolved  to  quit  his  church  and  drop  his  acquaint- 
ance. Mrs.  Swift's  essay  on  the  church,  therefore, 
was  not  happy. 

Mrs.  Jenkins  replied  that  she  had  become  rather 
tired  of  Doctor  Perkins.  He  seemed  to  be  a  man  of 
one  idea.  And  her  husband  was  so  often  prevented 
from  going  to  church  by  his  professional  duties— - 
though,  to  be  sure,  that  would  occur  in  any  church  : 
still,  she  liked  Mr.  Duncan  much  better,  both  as  a 
preacher  and  as  a  man. 

Mrs.  Swift  conceded  the  general  principle  that 
there  is  no  accounting  for  tastes.  She  did  not  think 
Mr.  Duncan's  voice  was  good.  She  thought  the  full, 
round,  sonorous  utterance  of  her  "dear  good  Doctor" 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  169 

was  best  adapted  to  the  church  service.     And.  then, 
.Mr.  Duncan  went  so  little  into  society ! 

"  However,"  she  added,  brightening  up  as  that  fact 
suggested  a  safe  topic  and  a  peep  into  other  people's 
affairs,  "  I  hear  he  goes  often  enough  to  the  Does." 

"  Not,  I  presume,  as  a  rival  to  Mr.  Traverse  ?"  said 
Mrs.  Jenkins,  inquiringly :  for  Mrs.  Swift's  manner 
indicated  something  gossippy,  though  her  friend  was 
at  a  loss  to  understand  its  particular  reference. 

"  No,  indeed  !"  replied  Mrs.  Swift ;  "  as  nobody's 
rival,  but  as  somebody's  admirer.  Rivals  are  some- 
what beyond  Susan  Doe's  mark,  I  imagine.  One 
suitor  at  a  time  is  as  much  as  she  could  hope  for ;  if, 
indeed,  she  ever  had  one  before." 

"  Susan  Doe !"  echoed  Mrs.  Jenkins,  gradually 
apprehending  what  Mrs.  Swift  would  be  at.  "I 
never  had  the  slightest  idea  of  such  a  thing  1  But, 
on  my  word,  now  you  mention  it,  I  think  that  will 
do  very  well.  Susan  Doe  may  not  suit  your  fancy, 
Sophia ;  but  I  consider  her  one  of  the  finest  and  most 
lovable  women  I  ever  knew." 

"  Why,  Louisa,  she's  forty  years  old,  if  she's  a 
minute,"  responded  the  dismayed  Mrs.  Swift. 

"  True,"  said  Mrs.  Jenkins,  "  and  Mr.  Duncan  is 
not  much  less  than  fifty.  And  what  then  ?  I  pre- 
sume you  will  not  contend  that  real  attachments  are 
limited  to  people  who  are  under  five-and-twenty — or 
to  any  age  at  all,  for  that  matter  ?" 

"  No ;  certainly  not,"  answered  Mi's.  Swift ;  for  the 
question  was  put  in  a  way  that  almost  extorted  the 
answer ;  although,  in  fact,  she  would  have  contended 
that  very  point,  if*  she  had  her  own  way  about  it ; 
"  but,"  she  added,  "  to  think  of  an  old  widower  and 
an  old  maid  setting  up  a  new  establishment !" 

8 


170  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

f 

"  "What  would  you  have?"  inquired  Mrs.  Jenkins. 
"  Surely,  you  would  not  approve  of  Mr.  Duncan's 
taking  a  young  wife  ?" 

"  For  that,"  replied  Mrs.  Swift,  "if  my  judgment 
were  called  for,  I  should  decide  for  his  taking  no 
wife.  Some  people  seem  to  think  that  marrying 
again  is  a  necessity,  instead  of  a  caprice.  I  don't 
regard  it  so.  My  husband  died  ten  years  ago,  and  I 
never  had  an  idea  of  replacing  him." 

Mrs.  Jenkins  thought  to  herself,  that  a  lady  who 
could  speak  of  "  replacing"  a  husband  as  she  would 
speak  of  replacing  a  broken  soup-tureen,  was  not 
likely  to  appreciate  any  further  discussion  on  that 
point,  and  she  dismissed  it  by  inquiring  whether 
the  rumor  about  Mr.  Duncan  was  probably  well 
founded  ? 

Mrs.  Swift  was  not  prepared  to  say,  positively. 
That  sort  of  thing  about  people  at  that  time  of  jlife 
was  not  likely  to  be  ill-founded.  Mr.  Duncan  did 
certainly  call  often  at  Mr.  Doe's  to  see  somebody,  and 
Mrs.  Swift  would  like  to  know  who  it  could  be,  but 
Susan  Doe  ?  As  to  the  fact  of  the  calling,  her  coach- 
man, Stephen,  was  intimate  with  Mr.  Doe's  waiter, 
Peter;  and  Mrs.  Swift  had  it  from  Stephen  direct 
through  her  maid,  Bridget,  who  had  it  at  first  hands 
from  the  cook. 

Such  a  mass  of  concurrent  testimony  was  not  to  be 
disregarded  ;  and  Mrs.  Jenkins  admitted  the  calls. 
Their  object  might  easily  be  what  Mrs.  Swift  conjec- 
tured, and  that  object  met  Mrs.  Jenkins's  entire 
approbation. 

At  this  juncture,  Mrs.  Swift,  having  exhausted  her 
budget  of  safe  topics,  and  still  fearing  a  pause,  bade 
good  morning  to  her  dearest  and  best  friend,  with  a 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  171 

conviction  that  some  screw  was  loose  in  their  friendly 
relations. 


By  one  of  those  remarkable  coincidences,  so  bril- 
liant in  history,  it  happened  that,  concurrently  with 
the  foregoing  interchanges,  a  similar  subject  was  un- 
der the  consideration  of  Traverse  and  Jane  Doe. 

Jane  had  spoken  of  Mr.  Duncan's  conversational 
power  and  of  his  varied  information,  apart  from  his 
profession  :  and  concluded  by  saying  that,  altogether,  • 
Mr.  Duncan  was  "  her  admiration"  for  a  clergyman. 

"  According  to  the  best  of  my  judgment,  Jane," 
said  Traverse,  "Mr.  Duncan  is  'the  admiration'  oi 
others  in  your  family,  both  as  a  clergyman  and  as  a 
friend." 

"  I  believe  he  is,"  returned  Jane,  in  a  matter-of- 
fact  way ;  "  my  uncle  thinks  " then,  perceiving 

by  Traverse's  looks   that  something  more  was  in- 
tended, she  interrupted  herself  and  added, 

"Oh,  you  mean  that  my  aunt  thinks  so,  I  sup- 
pose 2" 

"  I  do  confess,"  returned  Traverse,  with  a  theatri- 
cal nourish,  "  that  there  is  some  such  stuff  in  my 
thoughts." 

"Then,"  said  Jane,  "perhaps  by  way  of  complet- 
ing the  quotation  you  would  add  that  the  man 
delights  not  you  ?" 

"  By  no  means,"  answered  Traverse ;  "  I  admire 
him  quite  as  much  as  your  uncle  does,  or  as  you  do : 
only,  I  think  your  aunt  out-herods  us  all." 

"  I  shouldn't  be  surprised,"  said  Jane ;  leaving 
those  four  words  to  do  the  work  of  eight,  as  is  cus- 
tomary in  colloquial  parlance,  "  if  it  were  so "  being 


172  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHARD   ROE. 

understood.  "  Yet,  I  assure  you,  I  have  heard  no- 
thing of  it." 

"Which  is  very  strange!"  rejoined  Traverse,  so- 
lemnly. "But  I  hope  the  arrangement  has  your 
approbation,  even  if  you  have  not  been  consulted  ?" 

"  Why,  Alfred,"  remonstrated  Jane,  "  you  are 
getting  on  rapidly  with  this  affair !  rather  more  so,  I 
imagine,  than  the  principals.  You  call  it  an  arrange- 
ment !" 

"  I  presume  there  is  at  least  an  understanding," 
replied  Traverse ;  "  at  any  rate,  if  there  is  not,  there 
soon  will  be.  I  wish,"  he  added,  half  interrogatively, 
"  I  wish  it  would  do  to  quiz  them  a  little." 

"  That  might  be  dangerous,"  Jane  replied  ;  "  and  I 
wouldn't  offend  my  aunt  for  the  world — although, 
once  on  a  time,  she  did  carry  her  jokes  rather  far 
with  me.  By  the  way,  how  would  a  valentine  do  ?" 

"The  day  is  too  far  oif,"  said  Traverse.  "The 
secret  will  be  out  of  itself  before  that  time." 

"  But  what's  the  need  of  waiting  ?"  inquired  Jane. 
"Those  embossed  sheets  with  sharp  darts  and  bleeding 
hearts  are  valentines,  independently  of  days.  Let  us 

put  onr  heads  together not  quite  so  close,  thank 

you  !"  as  Traverse  was  taking  the  suggestion  literally  ; 
"  let  us  study  out  a  verse  or  two,  and  hear  how  they 
will  sound." 


One  of  the  subjects  of  this  conspiracy,  to  wit,  Miss 
Susan  Doe,  was  a  constant  attendant  on  the  services 
of  the  church,  both  on  Sundays  and  at  the  Wednes- 
day evening  lecture.  She  was  usually  accompanied 
by  her  brother  and  niece,  and  often  of  late  by  Tra- 
verse. But  it  sometimes  happened  that  the  ergage- 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  173 

ments  of  those  gentlemen  deprived  her  of  their  escort 
on  her  return  from  the  Wednesday  evening  lecture  • 
and  as  Mr.  Doe's  pew  was  directly  in  front  of  the 
pulpit,  Mr.  Duncan  could  always  see  when  she  was 
thus  unprotected.  Nothing  was  more  natural,  under 
such  circumstances,  than  that,  what  between  Miss 
Doe's  taking  her  time,  and  Mr.  Duncan's  making  the 
most  of  his  time,  after  the  service  was  concluded — 
the  two  should  chance  to  meet  in  the  vestibule,  and 
the  pastor  should  see  to  it  that  the  parishioner  had 
no  difficulty  about  getting  home. 

These  antecedent  facts  may  be  of  little  importance 
in  the  abstract ;  but  they  led  to  another  coincidence, 
which  should  be  recorded  as  a  counterpart  to  the 
coincidence  recently  herein-above  related. 

On  the  very  Wednesday  evening  when  Mrs.  Jenk- 
ins and  Mrs.  Swift  by  themselves,  and  Traverse  and 
Jane  Doe  by  themselves,  had  indulged  severally  in 
the  little  matter  of  gossip  already  recited,  Miss  Doe 
was  seated  alone  in  her  pew  and  Mr.  Duncan  was 
particularly  happy  in  expounding  2  John,  i.  5.  The 
good  man  was  touchingly  earnest  in  his  discourse. 
Every  word  seemed  to  come  from  his  heart.  And, 
when  that  is  the  case,  a  congregation  will  always  be 
attentive.  They  were  so,  on  the  present  occasion.  Miss 
Doe  was  wholly  absorbed ;  so  much  so,  that  she  was  an 
unusually  long  time  about  getting  out  of  the  church ; 
and  almost  the  first  remark  she  made,  after  being 
assured  by  Mr.  Duncan,  in  the  vestibule,  that  "  it 
was  no  sort  of  trouble — he  was  quite  at  leisure" — 
was  an  assurance  that  she  had  seldom  been  so  much 
gratified — and — all  that  sort  of  thing. 

On  this  hint,  Mr.  Duncan  made  up  his  mind  to 
speak.  Exactly  what  he  said,  can  be  only  conjee- 


174  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICIIAKD   ROE. 

tured  by  third  persons  :  because,  a  succession  of  omni- 
buses was  just  then  passing,  which  made  it  necessary 
for  the  two  interlocutors  to  say  what  they  had  to  say, 
in  each  other's  ears. 

But,  however  inaudible  to  outsiders  and  listeners 
were  the  spoken  words,  their  effect  seemed  to  be — a 
clear  understanding  between  the  parties  uttering 
them. 

Young  people  sometimes  bungle  and  boggle  this  lit- 
tle necessity  at  a  terrible  rate :  but  if  you  wish  to  see 
the  thing  done  up  in  a  hurry,  and  well  done,  just  you 
look  out  for  a  fancying  couple  of  a  certain  age  ! 

"Why,  my  dear  sir,  Doe's  house  is  not  a  hundred 
yards  from  the  church  ! 


"While  Traverse  and  Jane  were  still  sitting  in  the 
parlor,  tagging  doggerel  lines  on  a  sheet  of  paper, 
preparatory  to  the  contemplated  valentine,  Miss  Doe 
returned  from  the  lecture  and  entered  the  parlor  with 
the  reverend  Mr.  Duncan. 

And  it  was  exceedingly  funny,  the  way  these  four 
people  deported  themselves !  Here  were  individuals 
who  knew  more,  much  more  than  they  would  unfold : 
people  who  had  designs  and  suspicions  which  nothing 
could  induce  them  to  reveal :  people  looking  wise  in 
one  direction  and  foolish  in  another  direction  :  people 
simpering,  and  people  repressing  a  laugh  :  people 
who  had  some  things  in  common,  and  other  things 
in  particular :  people  who  could,  an  if  they  would : 
but  nobody  in  all  the  crowd  who  was  just  then  pre- 
pared to  "  let  on." 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHAED   ROE.  175 

A  few  evenings  later  in  the  autumn,  the  Doe  tea- 
table  was  thus  occupied :  Miss  Doe,  at  the  tea  and 
coffee  urns  ;  Miss  Jane  Doe ;  Mr.  John  Doe ;  the 
reverend  Mr.  Duncan ;  Alfred  Traverse.  It  was  Miss 
Doe's  waffle-party ;  the  first  of  the  season.  And  if 
Miss  Doe,  in  the  housekeeping  category,  was  strong 
on  anything,  she  was  strong  on  waffles. 

The  party  was  a  merry  party,  independently  of  waf- 
fles. No  secrets  had  yet  transpired :  and  few  things 
tend  to  make  people  on  better  terms  with  themselves, 
than  the  consciousness  of  possessing  a  secret,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  consciousness  of  "smoking"  it,  on 
the  other. 

Presently,  Peter,  having  absented  himself  to  an- 
swer the  bell,  walked  in  with  a  very  large  letter  for 
Miss  Doe.  A  letter  nearly  as  broad  as  it  was  long. 

Miss  Doe  eyed  the  missive  with  much  curiosity ; 
but  nothing  whatever  could  be  gained  by  outside 
inspection.  She  hesitated  a  moment.  Nobody  was 
present  but  intimate  friends,  and  they  would  excuse 
her  ?  Certainly.  Of  course. 

The  letter  was  by  no  means  a  long  letter.  On  the 
contrary,  it  was  a  short  letter.  It  appeared  to  con- 
tain poetry.  Two  verses  of  poetry.  Miss  Doe  made 
short  work  of  the  reading ;  and  then,  with  a  blush 
that  had  in  it  more  of  scarlet  than  of  pink,  she  sum- 
marily crammed  both  letter  and  envelope  into  her 
pocket,  remarking  with  great  presence  of  mind,  and 
with  a  self-possession  that  showed  how  little  this  com- 
munication had  disturbed  her  equanimity, 

"  Mr.  Duncan — will  you  take  a  little  more  ehoco- 
late  in  your — tea — I  beg  your  pardon  ! — waffles?" 

If  the  very  life  of  Jane  Doe  had  depended  on  her 
keeping  a  long  face,  that  young  lady  would  have 


176  JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

been  done  for,  at  this  crisis.  She  thrust  her  face, 
as  far  it  would  go,  into  her  coffee-cup.  She  used 
superhuman  efforts  of  restraint.  But  it  was  no 
go.  Or,  rather,  it  was  all  go.  A  burst — a  peal — an 
explosive  shout  of  laughter,  such  as  seldom  rings 
from  the  throat  of  a  well-bred  woman,  came  tumul- 
tuously  forth  into  her  coffee,  forcing  the  cup  from 
her  face  and  scattering  the  fragrant  beverage  all 
about  the  table. 

Probably,  that  was  the  best  thing  Jane  Doe  could 
have  done.  For  nothing  is  more  contagious  than 
genuine  laughter;  and,  as  everybody  immediately 
joined  in,  it  all  passed  off  as  the  result  of  Miss  Doe's 
unintelligible  jargon  of  waffles,  chocolate  and  tea. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

VAKIOLOED. 

THE  superintending  care  of  Providence  over  the 
lives  of  physicians  while  engaged  in  their  profes- 
sional duties,  is  a  subject  of  frequent  comment.  They 
go  from  one  sick  chamber  to  another,  at  all  hours  of 
the  day  and  night ;  and  in  all  conditions  of  bodily 
health,  many  of  which  conditions  render  men  unu- 
sually susceptible  to  disease;  yet,  though  they  are 
thus  more  exposed  to  contagion  than  other  men,  they 
very  rarely  suffer  from  it.  But  this  impunity  does 
not  extend  to  the  subordinates  and  accessories  of  the 
medical  profession  :  for  example,  to  the  apothecaries' 
boys  who  carry  potions  about' to  the  patients.  And 
it  chanced,  from  this  cause,  or  some  other  cause,  that 
Thomas  Pinch  was  taken  ill  with  what  proved  to  be 
the  varioloid. 

The  news  of  his  illness  came  to  Mr.  Doe  through 
Phebe,  Tom's  sister,  who  was  employed  two  or  three 
days  in  each  week  by  Miss  Doe  in  miscellaneous 
duties  about  the  house,  and  in  needle-work ;  with  a 
promise  of  a  sewing-machine  of  her  own  some  of 
these  days,  when  she  should  have  learned  how  to  use 
it :  by  means  of  which  she  would  be  able,  with  her 
mother's  cooperation,  to  set  herself  up  in  business. 

Mr.  Doe  was.  well  aware  of  the  danger  incurred  by 
patients  from  the  treatment  of  inexperienced  and 
half  educated  medical  practitioners — whom,  however, 

8*  i7? 


178  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   ROE. 

many  people  consider  to  be  "  good  enough  for  the 
poor  " — and  lie  engaged  doctor  Jenkins,  who  was  his 
own  family-physician,  to  look  after  Tom's  case.  As 
a  matter  of  precaution,  it  was  deemed  advisable  that 
Phebe  should  remain  at  home  while  her  brother  was 
ill.  She  might,  otherwise,  carry  the  disease  into 
families  where  she  worked ;  and,  besides,  she  would 
be  wanted  to  nurse  Tom.  And,  meantime,  Mr.  Doe 
would  see  that  there  was  no  want  of  money  for  the 
comfort  of  the  invalid  and  his  attendants. 

To  people  who  can  be  well  taken  care  of,  and  who 
have  the  advantage  of  an  experienced  physician's 
services,  the  varioloid  is  not  much  to  be  dreaded,  be- 
yond those  considerations  which  belong  to  personal 
appearance.  But  in  this  regard,  the  Does  hoped  that 
Phebe  might  escape  the  disease,  for  she  was  a  very 
comely  lass.  Both  she  and  her  mother,  however, 
must  now  take  their  chance  of  that,  as  both  had  un- 
dergone the  danger  of  exposure  before  they  were 
aware  of  it.  Doctor  Jenkins  took  the  precaution  of 
vaccinating  them ;  and,  at  their  request,  the  same 
precaution  was  extended  to  their  uncle  Samuel. 

The  result  was,  that  Tom  came  off  bravely  from  his 
encounter  with  the  enemy :  Phebe  and  her  mother 
escaped  the  disease  entirely ;  and  uncle  Sam  had  it 
"  the  worst  way  ;"  coming  out  of  it,  indeed,  with  life 
and  health,  but  so  disfigured  that  niece,  great  niece 
and  great  nephew  would  never  have  recognized  him 
again  by  his  face. 

Wilson,  for  a  time,  was  not  aware  of  the  great 
change  in  his  personal  appearance ;  for  doctor  Jen- 
kins advised  a  removal  of  the  looking-glass  from  his 
room  until  Wilson  became  prepared  for  the  discovery 
It  was  not  missed  for  some  time,  for  Wilson's  eyes 


JOHN   DOE   AND  RICHARD   ROE.  179 

were  weak  from  the  disease,  and  his  room  was  kept 
chirk.  When,  at  length,  he  called  for  it,  Mrs.  Pinch 
explained  its  absence  by  remarking  that  the  hook  by 
which  it  was  suspended  became  loose,  and  during 
uncle  Sam's  illness,  she  would  not  annoy  him  with 
the  noise  of  driving  it  fast.  She  would  now,  in  a  day 
or  two,  borrow  a  hammer,  and  fasten  the  hook. 

When  Wilson  was  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  per- 
mitted to  get  up  and  dress  himself,  he  unsuspiciously 
made  his  way  to  this  revealer  of  plain  truth,  and — he 
was  very  near  dashing  it  to  pieces ! 

That !  What !  Him !  Good  heavens !  what  had 
Mrs.  Pinch  been  doing  to  that  looking-glass?  The 
thing  was  impossible  ! 

But  by  and  by  Mrs.  Pinch  stood  by  his  side,  in 
front  of  the  glass,  and  the  faithful  mirror  gave  back 
her  image  in  its  integrity.  The  fault,  then,  was  not 
in  the  glass. 

Wilson  was  greatly  discouraged  at  first.  But  he 
•was  a  philosopher,  and  made  the  best  of  it.  He  was 
no  longer  in  the  way  of  making  or  desiring  female 
conquests ;  and,  if  his  beauty  was  spoiled,  his  future 
identification  by  the  emissaries  of  the  law,  was 
placed  well  out  of  the  range  of  probability.  Besides, 
he  had  plenty  of  money  for  present  use,  and  a  screw 
on  old  Roe  for  future  supplies.  Meantime,  he  was  in 
good  quarters.  Hail  Columbia!  The  world  hasn't 
come  to  an  end  yet ! 

Wilson  couJ4  now  resume  his  old  recreation  of 
looking  out  of  a  window,  without  takhig  pains  to 
prevent  himself  from  being  seen. 

It  seemed  a  very  long  time  since  he  had  looked 
into  the  street.  And  he  was  surprised  to  find  that 
so  little  change  had  taken  place  in  the  external 


180  JOHN   DOE   AND    RICHARD   KOE. 

world  since  he  last  looked  out  upon  it.  There  was 
the  old  gray  bob-tailed  nag  at  the  head  of  the  fish 
cart ;  and  the  milkman's  cart  with  its  footboard  split 
in  the  middle :  and  the  baker  wearing  a  white  hat 
for  the  same  reason  that  a  miller  does,  namely,  to 
keep  his  head  warm.  There,  too,  was  the  grocer's 
array  of  vegetables  and  fruit,  and  his  succession  of 
customers  smacking  their  lips  as  they  withdrew  from 
his  hospitality,  and  even  the  ragged  schoolboy  steal- 
ing an  apple,  which,  by  this  time,  had  probably 
become  an  article  not  of  luxury  but  of  necessity. 
Wilson  hoped  that  the  lad  would  be  more  circum- 
spect, however;  for  other  eyes  than  his  might  happen 
to  detect  the  pilfering.  This  idea,  once  afoot,  grew 
upon  "Wilson  to  such  an  extent  that  he  began  to 
watch  the  boy's  daily  approach  with  a  nervous  soli- 
citude that,  at  last,  took  away  his  appetite  for  break- 
fast, and  disturbed  even  his  dreams  with  visions  of 
discovery  and  arrest.  This  was  partly  owing  to  his 
weak  state  of  body  and  mind,  and  partly  to  his  cir- 
cumstances of  restraint  and  confinement :  causes  that 
deprived  him  of  any  regular  occupation  for  his 
thoughts,  and  forced  them  to  dwell  on  trifles  too 
unsubstantial  to  feed  them.  Those  trifles  were  about 
as  nourishing  to  the  mind,  as  a  diet  of  soap-bubbles 
would  be  to  the  body. 

The  result  of  this  mental  disturbance,  was  a  deter- 
mination on  the  part  of  Wilson  to  give  the  boy 
warning  of  his  danger.  He  accordingly  sat  by  his 
open  window  one  morning  until  the  object  of  his 
Solicitude  approached  the  grocer's  premises ;  and 
then,  by  a  hem  and  a  whistle,  he  attracted  the  lad's 
attention,  beckoning  the  little  fellow  at  the  same 
time  to  cross  over  the  street.  The  young  chap  wag 


JOHN    DOE   AND   EICHARD   ROE.  181 

taken  by  surprise,  and  did  not  readily  obey  the  call ; 
but  on  Wilson's  repeating  it,  and  saying,  in  a  conci- 
liatory tone  that  he  wished  to  speak  to  him,  the  boy 
ventured  to  come  beneath  the  window. 

This  near  approach  to  such  a  face  as  "Wilson's  by 
no  means  improved  its  attractiveness  in  the  eyes  of 
the  lad,  and  did  very  little  in  the  way  of  encouraging 
him  to  make  the  acquaintance.  However,  he  in- 
quired what  the  strange-looking  man  wanted. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  something,"  said  "Wilson, 
showing  a  bright,  new  "  quarter  "  between  his  thumb 
and  finger :  "  come  in.  I'll  open  the  door  for  you, 
my  lad." 

The  beauty  of  the  new  quarter,  fresh  from  the 
mint,  had  such  a  modifying  effect  on  the  speaker's 
ugly  face,  that  the  urchin  assented,  and  Wilson  hur- 
ried down  stairs  to  admit  him.  As  soon  as  the  boy 
stood  in  the  hall,  Wilson  said  to  him,  at  the  same 
time  imparting  the  specie, 

"  See  here,  my  boy ;  you've  been  stealing  that 
man's  apples  for  a  long  time.  I  want  just  to  tell 
you,  that  the  old  fellow  is  on  the  look  out.  Now, 
mind  you  let  his  apples  alone,  eh  ?"  And  he  re- 
opened the  door  and  dismissed  the  astonished  boy 
into  the  street. 

"  I  rather  guess  he  won't  come  that  dodge  again 
in  a  hurry  !"  said  Wilson,  complacently,  as  he  fast- 
ened the  door,  and  walked  up  to  his  room. 

A  man  must  be  pretty  thoroughly  demoralized, 
when  the  consciousness  of  having  done  a  good  thing 
fails  temporarily  to  raise  him  in  his  own  esteem. 
Wilson  felt  like  a  new  man  after  this  exploit ;  and, 
thereupon,  he  set  about  some  plans  for  the  future 
with  renewed  confidence. 


182  JOHN    DOK    AND    RICHARD    KOE. 

He  had  been  advised  by  doctor  Jenkins  to  take 
exercise  in  the  ,open  air  as  much  as  possible.  That 
he  could  now  do  with  great  comparative  safety, 
thanks  to  that  ugly  physiognomy,  which  he  could 
not  yet  bring  himself  to  contemplate  steadily  in  a 
looking-glass.  It  would  be  better,  though,  to  have 
an  entirely  different  suit  of  clothes.  Those  hitherto 
worn  might  have  become  familiar  to  some  prying 
chap,  without  Wilson's  knowing  it.  He  would  have 
a  shawl,  too.  He  had  never  worn  one  of  the  d — 
things ;  he  couldn't  imagine  why  any  man  should 
thus  make  an  old  granny  of  himself,  by  daylight,  at 
any  rate.  But  just  now  the  shawl  would  aid  his  dis- 
guise. 

As  to  remaining  in  New- York  ?  Let  him  see. 
Some  other  place  would  be  safer :  nobody  out  of 
New- York  would,  now,  ever  have  the  remotest  notion 
of  his  identity.  As  to  funds  ?  Hum.  The  exche- 
quer was  in  a  healthy  condition  :  average  of  specie 
far  beyond  liabilities.  Yet,  it  would  never  do  to  go 
elsewhere  until  the  strong-box  was  replenished.  By 
the  by,  it  was  every  way  a  blunder  in  Roe  to  betray 
his  estimate  of  the  value  of  those  papers  and  yet 
allow  them  to  slip  through  his  fingers.  A  thousand 
dollars  !  Why,  a  man  who  would  undertake  and 
carry  out  what  Roe  undertook  and  carried  out  for 
the  possession  of  those  papers,  would  pay  ten  thou- 
sand dollars  to  recover  them  without  undergoing  such 
a  terrible  ordeal.  Ten  thousand  dollars  ?  Let  him 
see.  How  would  he  open  trenches  on  the  old  fel- 
low ?  Might  begin,  say,  with  an  anonymous  letter. 
Stir  him  up  with  a  long  pole,  or  a  sharp  stick.  Let 
him  see.  Ticklish  business,  these  anonymous  letters ! 
But  there  was  time  to  consider.  As  to  conscience  in 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICIIAKD   EOE.  183 

plucking  Hoe,  the  infernal  old  swindler !  He  had 
cheated  fifty  men  out  of  more  than  that,  by  letting 
'em  in  on  bottom  principles  to  schemes  that  had  no 
bottom  ;  he  taking  good  care  to  get  out  before  the 
bottom  did,  if  there  was  one.  Conscience,  indeed ! 
He  thought  he  saw  himself  letting  up  Richard  Roe 
"  for  conscience'  sake  1" 

In  the  course  of  that  day,  "Wilson  was  provided 
•with  new  clothes  and  a  shawl,  as  per  programme : 
and  after  he  had  tried  them  on  and  taken  the  shine 
off  by  a  long  walk  in  the  evening,  he  went  to  bed 
and  dreamed  of  ten  thousand  dollars,  bottom  princi- 
ples, and  Richard  Roe's  conscience. 

The  next  morning  he  watched  the  effect  of  his 
moral  lecture  on  apples.  At  the  usual  hour,  the  boy 
appeared  and  passed  along ;  but  he  took  no  more 
notice  of  the  apples,  than  a  cat  takes  of  a  bowl  of 
cream  when  she  knows  somebody  is  watching  her. 
He  bestowed  the  compliment  of  a  passing  salute  on 
Wilson,  nevertheless.  He  cocked  his  eye  at  him,  to 
begin  with.  Then,  he  clapped  the  end  of  his  left 
thumb  to  the  tip  of  his  nose,  gyrated  his  fingers  to 
and  fro  as  a  man  does  when  he  plays  the  fife,  and 
marched  by,  as  erect  as  a  drummer  at  the  head  of 
his  regiment — in  Broadway. 

Wilson  was  rather  inclined  to  think  that  that  boy's 
conscience  had  not  been  much  touched,  nor  his 
morals  much  improved,  by  the  lesson  he  had  received. 
But  then,  to  be  sure,  Wilson  had  not  bargained  for 
cultivating  anything  in  the  boy  except  the  sentiment 
of  self-preservation.  He  flattered  himself  that  he 
had  hit  that  nail  squarely  on  the  head. 

"  Now,"  said  Wilson,  complacently,  "  one  good 
turn  deserves  another.  Here  goes  for  an  anonymous 


184:  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   EOE. 

letter  to  Roe.  For,  after  all,  supposing  there  is  time 
enough  ?  This  sort  of  thing  takes  time.  And  the 
first  step  need  be  only  a  feeler.  Let  me  see. — Sir  ! 
!N~o :  make  it,  Dear  Sir.  (I  mean  that  it  shall  be 
'  dear,'  before  it  is  over.)  A  friend  of  "W*****,  who 
escaped  in  a  vial  of  chloroform  and  crossed  the  ISTorth 
River  on  an  iron  bar,  wishes  to  say  that  W.  has  cer- 
tain papers  which  were  left  by  mistake  in  the  side 
pocket.  These  papers  are  valuable  to  any  one  who 
knows  their  value,  and  are  perhaps  valuable  to  the 
owner.  They  are  for  sale,  for  cash.  If  the  owner 
would  like  to  buy,  he  can  name  his  terms  by  adver- 
tisement in  the  Herald." 

That  will  do.  Sign  it  Sly  :  and  by  and  by  drop  it 
into  a  lamp-post  letter-box.  Then,  look  out  for  an 
advertisement. 

-  "Wilson  then  lit  a  segar,  took  up  the  last  number 
of  "  Harper's  Magazine,"  and  made  himself  comfort- 
able. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

FANCY     FINANCIERING. 

THE  condition  on  which  Jo.  Rabbit  could  be  honor- 
ably discharged  from  confinement  on  the  morning 
after  his  unconscious  travels  from  pillar  to  post — to 
wit,  the  payment  into  somebody's  treasury  of  the  sum 
of  ten  dollars,  lawful  money  of  the  realm — not  having 
been  complied  with,  the  aforesaid  Jo.  was  igno- 
miniously  transferred  to  the  Tombs,  and  there 
deposited  for  the  full  term  of  ten  calendar  days,  Sun- 
days included. 

Being  in  the  Tombs,  he  was  provided  with  bed  and 
board — more  accurately  speaking,  ~bowrd  and  board, 
for  the  bed  and  a  plank  were  very  much  the  same 
thing — and  a  companion,  who  was  detained  for  some 
other  cause  and  whose  acquaintance  proved  not  to  be 
an  advantage  to  Rabbit.  He  was  a  burglar  and  thief 
by  profession.  No  locks  had  been  found  complicated 
enough  to  keep  him  out  when  he  wished  to  be  in ; 
nor  had  any  fastenings  been  strong  enough  to  keep 
him  in,  when  he  wished  to  be  out.  Moreover  he 
had  always  done  up  his  professional  duties  so  artistic- 
ally, that  proof  against  himself  had  never  been  per- 
fected. He  had  something  of  Richard  Roe's  adroit- 
ness in  getting  his  friends  into  trouble,  yet  keeping 
his  own  neck  free.  He  appropriated  the  chief  share 
of  all  partnership  plunder  to  himself,  while  his 
associate  did  the  chief  share  of  the  work,  and  in 

185 


186  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   ROE. 

the  sequel  did  the  state  more  or  less  service  at  Sing 
Sing. 

A  man  of  this  stamp  was  constantly  in  want  of 
assistants  ;  as  he  would  never  practise  without  a  col- 
league, and  his  colleague  for  the  time  being  was 
tolerably  certain  of  being  caught  and  used  up,  as  the 
end  of  each  successful  exploit.  Hence,  when  a  new 
enterprise  was  on  foot,  a  new  recruit  was  to  be  sought 
to  fill  vacancies.  The  name  of  the  personage  with 
whom  Rabbit  was  now  domiciled  and  to  whose  care- 
ful training  he  was  about  to  be  subjected,  was  Jack 
Spring. 

Rabbit  was  in  the  happiest  frame  of  mind  for  the 
ministrations  of  Spring.  He  was  so  wearied  with 
disasters  and  so  tugged  with  fortune,  that  he  stood 
ready  to  set  his  individuality  on  any  chance  .that 
would  mend  it,  or  mar  it.  When  sober,  he  was  a 
cool,  brave  man  ;  and,  in  the  judgment  of  Spring, 
who  had  made  men  a  study,  he  was  a  marvellous 
proper  person  to  be  initiated  into  some  of  the  outer 
and  inner  mysteries  of  his  art. 

Men  who  know  the  value  of  time  can  accomplish 
a  great  deal  in  ten  days.  Messrs.  Spring  and  Rabbit, 
therefore,  previously  to  their  respective  periods  for 
honorable  discharge,  had  come  to  a  perfect  under- 
standing of  what  they  jointly  wished  to  do,  while 
Rabbit  had  acquired  a  very  pretty  notion  of  the  way 
to  do  it.  He  went  from  freshman  to  junior  almost 
per  saltum,  with  a  fair  promise  for  a  degree  at  the 
first  "commencement." 

"When  the  two  friends  got  out  of  bounds,  the 
superior  artist  put  his  novice  through  a  few  safe, 
practical  paces,  that  he  might  get  his  hand  in,  and 
acquire  that  confidence  which  is  indispensable  in  the 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICIIAED   EOE.  187 

field.  For  it  is  one  thing  to  practise  plunder  in  the 
abstract,  and  quite  another  to  apply  it  to  real  chat- 
tels in  the  face  or  fear  of  antagonistic  flesh  and 
bood. 

Rabbit  was  an  apt  scholar.  He  proved  himself  up 
to  everything  that  was  undertaken  on  a  small  scale ; 
so  much  so,  that  while  he  obtained  only  moderate 
percentages  of  the  profits,  he  made  a  very  good  living 
out  of  his  dexterity.  Among  other  things,  he  gained 
a  good  suit  of  clothes,  in  which  his  appearance 
enabled  him  to  undertake  the  gentlemanly  branch  of 
the  profession.  This  suit  was  kept  at  Spring's  lodg- 
ings, and  was  there  assumed  and  relinquished  as 
occasion  required,  but  was  never  used  exoept  on  pro- 
fessional business.  His  wife,  therefore,  knew  nothing 
of  what  was  going  on.  She  saw  less  of  him  than  for- 
merly ;  but  she  observed  that  he  had  temporarily 
abandoned  rum  and  seemed  to  have  the  means  of 
living  without  any  visible  means  of  obtaining  them. 
This  would  have  been  a  happy  change  for  the  hitherto 
wretched  family,  if  kind  treatment  on  the  part  of 
Rabbit  had  accompanied  it ;  but  another  part  of  the 
new  order  of  things  was  that  Rabbit  had  become 
more  abusive  than  formerly  of  his  wife  and  children. 

In  due  time,  Spring  projected  an  enterprise  well 
suited  to  his  genius  and  ambition.  He  proposed  to 
make  one  fell  swoop  of  jewels  that  should  place  him 
in  easy  circumstances  for  life,  giving  Rabbit  the 
usual  chance  of  a  reasonable  share  of  plunder  with  a 
large  proportion  of  the  risk. 

By  way  of  getting  familiar  with  the  intended  scene 
of  action,  the  two  gentlemen — now  well  dressed — 
called  at  one  of  those  large  establishments  in  Broad- 
way where  gems  and  precious  stones  seem  nterally  to 


188  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHARD   EOE. 

grow,  to  purchase  a  plain  gold  ring ;  to  wit,  a  wed- 
ding-ring. Rabbit  took  the  lead  in  the  application 
and  was  very  particular  about  the  size  and  weight. 
And  when  at  length  he  had  suited  himself  in  those 
respects,  he  gave  minute  directions  for  the  engraving 
of  names  and  date ;  promising,  in  conclusion,  to  call 
for  the  ring  on  the  next  evening. 

While  Rabbit  was  thus  occupied,  Spring,  with  the 
most  innocent  listlessness,  was  peering  around  amoiig 
the  glass  cases ;  informing  himself  very  accurately, 
however,  where  the  large  diamonds  and  other  precious 
stones  lay  thickest ;  and  making  a  speculative  guess 
how  many  of  them  he  could  grab  in  a  hurry  if  the 
intervening  obstacle  of  a  horizontal  plate-glass  were 
removed. 

By  the  time  he  had  completed  his  survey  and 
thoroughly  mastered  its  details,  so  that  when  time 
and  tide  served,  he  could  improve  his  seconds  to  the 
uttermost,  Rabbit  on  his  part,  and  at  a  distance  of 
some  thirty  feet  further  up  the  floor,  had  made  an 
end  of  his  bargain  for  the  wedding-ring,  and  the  two 
took  their  departure.  There  was  nothing  in  the 
transaction,  hitherto,  likely  to  attract  attention  or 
remark  of  the  employes  of  the  establishment.  It  was, 
thus  far,  an  every-day  occurrence,  such  as  the  clerks 
would  hardly  have  been  able  to  recall  or  describe  the 
next  day. 

As  the  two  friends  were  passing  along  Broadway, 
Spring,  who  had  been  on  the  look  out  for  such  an 
article,  directed  Rabbit  to  step  into  a  shop  near  by, 
and  purchase  a  dozen  of  large  fire-crackers  that  were 
hanging  in  the  window :  which  Rabbit  did,  while 
Spring  waited  on  the  outside.  Those  large  crackers 
are  a  great  improvement  on  the  old-fashioned  pipe- 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   ROE.  189 

stem  size,  once  valued  so  highly  by  the  boys  for 
fourth-of-July  purposes.  They  cost  more  money  by 
the  piece,  to  be  sure ;  but,  estimated  by  their  noise 
and  their  explosive  power,  they  are  much  cheaper  in 
the  grand  result.  They  go  off  like  a  pistol  or  a  gun  ; 
and  if  you  venture  to  hold  one  in  your  hand  as  it 
explodes,  you  will  find  occasion  for  an  amanuensis 
the  next  time  you  write  to  your  friends. 

Spring  next  sent  his  friend  into  a  plumber's  shop 
for  a  few  feet  of  lead-pipe,  to  take  into  the  country. 
Size  not  very  important;  but,  as  one  must  choose, 
even  when  one  is  indifferent,  say  three-quarter  inch 
size.  And  in  the  same  way  as  to  length  ;  say,  ten 
feet.  Rabbit,  again,  did  as  directed,  but  with  very 
little  idea  of  what  Spring  would  be  at. 

One  more  shopping  place  supplied  Spring's  wants. 
This  was  a  stationer's  shop,  where  Rabbit  bought 
a  ball  of  twine  and  several  sheets  of  stout  wrapping- 
paper. 

The  friends  then  proceeded  to  Spring's  quarters, 
where  Rabbit  as  usual  resumed  his  old  clothes,  while 
Spring  with  a  hatchet  amused  himself  by  cutting  his 
lead  pipe  into  lengths  of  about  six  inches.  He  then 
made  a  ground  tier,  on  a  table,  of  four  crackers,  four 
on  them,  and  again  four  to  conclude ;  and  in  that 
shape  he  made  them  fast  with  twine.  He  next  piled 
the  pieces  of  lead-pipe  making  a  double  ground  tier, 
placed  the  crackers  on  that,  and  piled  up  a  covering 
on  each  side  and  on  the  top,  with  the  pipe ;  and 
again  made  all  fast  with  twine.  In  conclusion,  he 
baled  the  whole  with  sundry  thicknesses  of  brown 
paper,  taking  care  to  bring  the  fuses  of  the  crackers 
in  a  neat  twist  through  a  small  hole  in  the  paper  and 
projecting  from  it  about  one  inch. 


190  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   EOE. 

"  Now,"  said  lie  to  the  admiring  Rabbit,  "  when 
you  touch  a  lighted  segar  to  this  coil  of  fuses,  the 
crackers  will  take  care  of  themselves  in  about  two 
seconds.  Then,  supposing  the  parcel  to  be  lying  on 
the  top  of  somebody's  glass  case,  the  weight  of  the 
lead,  acting  with  the  concussion  of  the  fire,  would 
crack  the  glass  plate  and  fall  through  it  into  the  case. 
Then  don't  you  see,  the  crackers  will  be  going  off 
one  after  another  like  the  volley  of  an  awkward 
squad  of  militia,  raising  the  very  devil  with  the 
finery  of  the  glass  case." 

"I  can  understand  that,"  said  Babbit,  who  had 
listened  carefully  to  every  word  of  the  explanation, 
"  but  I  don't  see  what  we  are  to  make  out  of  it." 

"  You  will  see  in  due  time,"  replied  Spring,  with 
great  composure.  "  You  had  better  believe  that  I 
haven't  been  studying  this  out  for  nothing.  You 
come  here  to-morrow  afternoon  and  we  will  go  for 
your  wedding-ring." 

And  the  meeting  was  thereupon  adjourned. 
Spring,  who  remained  upon  the  premises,  began 
to  pack  up  and  arrange  his  movables,  as  if  he  con- 
templated a  change  of  quarters. 


Rabbit  was  punctually  at  his  post ;  and  after  put- 
ting himself  into  his  new  clothes,  he  sat  down  for 
final  instructions.  These  were  rehearsed,  and  re-re- 
hearsed, until  there  was  no  such  word  as  fail.  The 
party  then  set  forth  on  their  travels,  duly  provided 
with  segars. 

Spring  carried  in  his  hand,  but  concealed  in  his 
sleeve,  a  piece  of  lead  pipe  about  a  foot  long,  one 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   ROE.  191 

end  of  which  was  bent  over  into  a  heavy  knob. 
Rabbit  -took  charge  of  the  fire-crackers.  The  par- 
cel was  neatly  done  up,  and  for  all  that  appeared, 
it  might  be  something  just  purchased  at  a  hardware- 
shop. 

The  adventurers  made  their  way  to  the  jeweller's 
palace,  and  walked  in  as  they  had  done  previously, 
Spring  carelessly  stopping  opposite  his  diamonds, 
and  Rabbit  proceeding  some  thirty  feet  beyond  him 
to  the  clerk  who  had  charge  of  the  ring.  Rabbit 
put  his  parcel  on  the  glass  case,  and  waited  while  the 
clerk  looked  in  a  drawer  for  the  ring.  The  ring  was 
soon  produced,  pronounced  satisfactory,  and  placed 
in  a  neat  little  box.  Rabbit  handed  the  clerk  a  ten 
dollar  bill,  and  the  young  man  went  back  to  the  desk 
for  change. 

At  this  critical  instant  Rabbit,  who  had  his  hand- 
kerchief ready  for  the  purpose,  let  it  drop  over  the 
parcel  to  prevent  the  preliminary  fizz  and  smoke 
from  being-  perceived,  and  with  the  other  hand 
touched  the  combustible  material  with  his  segar. 
Then,  stooping  to  the  floor,  as  if  he  had  let  something 
fall  and  was  pursuing  it,  he  made  a  short  run  out  of 
reach  of  the  explosion. 

No  man  can  tell  with  certainty  what  he  will  do 
when  unexpectedly  alarmed  ;  and  the  reason  is,  that 
alarm  and  surprise  work  together  to  take  away  his 
self-possession :  leaving  him  for  the  moment  incapa- 
ble of  taking  good  care  of  himself,  or  of  looking  out 
for  anybody  else.  And  in  that  fleeting  moment  of 
helplessness,  on  his  part,  and  on  the  part  of  a  dozen, 
men  together  in  the  same  circumstances,  a  great  deal 
may  be  done  by  a  resolute  man  who  is  fully  prepared 
for  the  exact  condition  of  things  and  knows  that 


192  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAKD   ROE. 

these  astonished  people  cannot  interfere  with  him. 
Therefore,  while  every  man  in  the  establishment  was 
entirely  absorbed  by  /a  series  of  explosions  that 
seemed  to  come  spontaneously  from  the  very  centre 
of  one  of  the  glass  cases,  filling  the  apartment  with 
noise,  smoke  and  flying  particles  of  glass — Spring, 
without  any  observable  motion  and  without  making 
any  noise  distinguishable  from  the  din  around  him, 
had,  with  his  lead-pipe  club,  shattered  the  glass  that 
stood  between  him  and  his  hopes,  and  with  several 
hasty  snatches  with  both  hands,  had  transferred  to 
loose  pockets  in  his  coat  a  very  large  amount  of  valu- 
able gems. 

The  only  thing  that  remained  for  him  and  his 
associate  to  do,  was  simply  to  walk  out  at  the  door, 
into  which  a  mass  of  people  from  the  street  were 
now  beginning  to  throng.  In  the  confusion  of  the 
moment,  no  effort  was  made  to  prevent  their  egress, 
for  at  the  moment  their  depredation  could  not  be 
known. 

They  took  different  routes  toward  Spring's  lodg- 
ings, where  Rabbit  changed  his  clothes  and  where  a 
hasty  division  of  the  spoil  was  made. 

The  percentage  allotted  to  Rabbit  was  not  large  ; 
yet  what  Spring  gave  him  was,  to  a  man  in  his 
circumstances,  a  fortune,  provided  he  could  contrive 
to  "  realize  "  on  it  to  advantage.  The  parties  sepa- 
rated on  the  best  of  terms. 

It  was,  now,  "  every  man  for  himself."  Rabbit, 
having  nowhere  else  to  go,  went  home.  But  Spring, 
who  had  provided  for  the  emergency,  took  himself 
off  to  parts  unknown. 


CHAPTEE    XXI. 

MAKGARET      ROE. 

MARGARET  ROE'S  lines  had  not  fallen  in  pleasant 
places.  The  indifference  or  aversion  of  her  father 
had,  indeed,  thrown  the  young  woman  more  entirely 
into  the  charge  and  the  heart  of  her  mother,  than 
would  otherwise  have  been  the  case  ;  and  therefore, 
as  was  natural,  the  mutual  devotion  of  the  mother 
and  daughter  became  extreme.  For  many  years 
they  had  been  all-in-all  to  each  other ;  and  each  had 
found  in  the  other  a  compensation  for  the  delinquen- 
cies of  the  head  of  the  family — to  wit,  Richard  Roe. 
But  the  death  of  Mrs.  Roe,  when  Margaret  was 
about  nineteen,  was  a  terrible  blow  to  the  poor  girl, 
who  thenceforward  would  have  found  herself  alone 
in  the  world  but  for  sympathizing  friends  outside  of 
the  domestic  circle ;  and  but  for  an  affair  of  the 
heart,  already  referred  to,  which  might,  and  might 
not,  promote  her  happiness. 

Subsequently  to  the  loss  of  her  mother,  when  Mar- 
garet of  necessity  became  mistress  of  her  father's 
household ;  when  intense  grief  was  gradually  yield- 
ing to  time  and  friendships  and  the  cares  of  the 
domestic  establishment ;  and  when  the  negative 
comforts  of  a  quiet  home  were  asserting  their  influ- 
ence on  her  wounded  spirit,  the  ridiculous  marriage 
of  her  father  almost  drove  her  to  despair.  The  new- 
comer was  not  only  an  uncongenial  and  unfitting 

9  93 


194  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   ROE. 

associate  of  both  father  and  daughter  ;  she  \vas  also 
a  discordant  element,  whose  entrance  into  the  family 
drove  peace  out  of  it. 

During  the  lifetime  of  her  mother,  Margaret  had 
become  attached  to  Sam.  Gray,  a  young  man  about 
town,  whose  father  some  people  supposed  to  be  rich, 
and  of  whom,  more  anon.  Margaret's  mother  had 
negatively  encouraged  this  attachment :  not  as  one 
that  she  would  have  preferred,  but  from  the  seemingly 
good  character  of  the  young  man,  and  from  the 
general  fact,  that  a  true  affection,  thus  early  com- 
menced, if  otherwise  fortunate  in  its  result,  was 
likely  to  prove  a  resource  and  an  escape  for  her 
daughter  from  what  the  mother  easily  foresaw  would 
never  be  a  happy  home.  Her  chief  objection  to 
young  Gray,  was  his  want  of  any  regular  pursuit ; 
he  had  been  brought  up  as  a  gentleman — a  vocation 
very  liable  to  terminate  in  bad  habits,  though 
nothing  of  that  kind  had  betrayed  itself  while  she 
was  alive  to  watch  for  it. 

What,  however,  her  sagacity  had  foreboded,  began 
now  to  be  developed.  Gray  showed  evidences  of  a 
fondness  for  strong  drink,  which  of  course  were  ob- 
served by  everybody  else  sooner  than  by  Margaret. 
Some  of  her  mother's  friends,  and  here  and  there  one 
of  her  own  intimate  companions,  had  endeavored  to 
present  this  thing  to  Margaret  in  its  proper  light. 
But,  here  was  brought  out  one  of  those  perversities 
of  female  nature,  so  incomprehensible  to  the  mental 
analyst. 

A  young  woman  will  often  jilt  a  young  man, 
without  assigning  or  having  any  reason  at  all.  Yet, 
when  it  happens  that  there  is  abundant  cause  for  a 
lovei's  dismissal,  and  all  the  friends  of  the  lady  see 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  195 

it,  and  exert  themselves  to  the  utmost  to  make  her 
see  it ;  she  will  set  her  face  like  a  flint,  and  adhere 
to  her  lover  with  a  desperate  infatuation  that  defies 
all  interference,  and  which  seems  even  to  increase  in 
proportion  to  the  efforts  made  to  overcome  it. 

Unfortunately,  Margaret's  instance  was  no  excep- 
tion to  this  inconceivable  rule.  She  persisted  in  in- 
terpreting friendly  and  earnest  opposition  into  cruel 
persecution  of  both  Gray  and  herself ;  she  now  felt 
deserted  by  every  one  :  and  with  a  fatuity  that  finds 
a  parallel  only  in  mental  aberration,  she  founded  her 
chief  hope  of  happiness  on  the  constancy  of  Gray — 
which,  in  the  opinion  of  her  friends,  was  her  greatest 
curse. 

Things  were  at  this  pass,  when  the  scene  took 
place,  as  related  in  chapter  twelve  of  this  history. 
That  scene  was  not  unusual  in  its  tone ;  but  its  de- 
tails somewhat  transcended  former  experience.  Mrs. 
Roe's  taunting  reference  to  Gray's  infirmity  was,  to 
Margaret,  utterly  unendurable.  Margaret  had  borne 
much  from  her  own  friends  on  this  topic — friends 
who  were,  in  some  sense,  authorized  to  speak.  But 
Mrs.  Roe,  whom  Margaret  detested  as  an  intruder, 
and  despised  for  her  weaknesses  of  character,  and 
who  moreover  lived  in  a  glass  house — for  her  to 
interfere,  and  assume  an  air  of  superiority  and  read 
Margaret  a  lecture  in  her  own  house  and  home  !  it  was 
a  thing  not  to  be  borne.  It  was,  even,  a  thing  to  pro- 
voke retaliation  ;  and  if  Margaret's  imputations,  in 
reply,  were  well  founded,  retaliation  might  be  very 
easily  attained.  In  fact,  she  had  made  quite  a  per- 
ceptible approach  toward  retaliation  by  her.  startling 
disclosure  about  Mr.  Jackson.  And  when,  subse- 
quently, she  came  to  observe  the  altered  manner  of 


196  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

Mrs.  Roe  ;  with  what  an  involuntary  deference  that 
lady  seemed  all  of  a  sudden  to  regard  her ;  how  the 
bold  and  defiant  look  was  exchanged  for  timid  and 
furtive  glances :  neither  Margaret's  unsuspecting 
nature  nor  her  general  simplicity  of  character  could 
prevent  her  from  being  aware  that  she  had,  how- 
ever unwittingly,  lighted  on  a  secret  of  first  rate 
proportions. 

Roe  took  a  different  view  of  Margaret's  discovery. 
He  attached  no  importance  to  it.  He  considered 
the  story  to  be  extemporised  for  the  occasion,  and  as 
a  medium  of  venting  an  angry  woman's  spite.  The 
thing  was  cleverly  got  up.  Well  thrown  in.  He 
had  repeatedly  laughed  over  it,  as  an  instance  of 
Margaret's  adroitness.  In  the  matter  of  fence,  his 
daughter  was  clearly  an  overmatch  for  his  wife. 
Richard  could  judge  of  that,  because  he  was  an 
unconcerned  spectator.  An  unconcerned  looker-on 
in  Yienna  has  that  great  advantage :  he  can  impar- 
tially estimate  the  skill  of  the  combatants ;  he  can 
appreciate  the  good  hits  because  they  don't  hit  him. 
As  for  the  truth  of  Margaret's  imputations,  that  was 
all  in  my  eye.  He  not  only  knew  Jackson,  but  he 
knew  himself.  He  had  his  own  mental  and  physi- 
cal weight  and  measure  calculated  to  a  hair.  He 
would  like  to  see  the  man  who  could  get  ahead  of 
Richard  Roe !  He  had  "  done "  every  man  who 
came  in  contact  with  him,  either  as  a  borrower  or 
lender,  for  twenty  years  past. 

Notwithstanding  all  that,  there  is  something  so 
luminously  absurd  in  underrating  that  certain — or 
rather,  that  uncertain — kind  of  enemy,  Richard 
thought  he  might  as  well  keep  a  lookout.  Mrs.  Roe, 
with  much  less  circumlocution  of  reasoning,  had 


JOHN    DOE    AND   RICHARD   ROE.  197 

resolved  to  keep  a  lookout.  And  it  is  needless  to  add 
that  Margaret  had  resolved  that  she  would  keep .  a 
lookout.  Thus,  the  triangular  duel  was  maintained, 
but  the  weapons  were  changed. 

While  the  three  are  occupied  in  their  silent  war- 
fare of  eyes,  a  brief  introduction  may  be  conceded  to 
the  sole  surviving  parent  of  Margaret's  persecuted 
lover. 

The  elder  Gray,  to  wit  Isaac  Gray,  the  happy 
father  of  the  youth  who  was  so  strong  on  the  whis- 
key question,  belonged  to  a  class  of  people  who 
never  die  out  in  a  large  city:  or,  at  any  rate,  in 
New- York. 

The  individuals  of  this  class  do  a  large  business  on 
a  small  capital.  Without  possessing  any  visible  ways 
and  means,  they  live  in  fine  houses,  entertain  expen- 
sively, and  have  a  snug  box  on  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson.  Their  names  are  always  to  be  found  on 
committees  of  invitation  to  some  public  man,  and 
among  the  officers  of  public  meetings,  complimentary 
benefits,  anniversary  balls,  and  so  on.  Their  persons 
may  be  seen  in  Wall-street  making  the  round  of 
banks  and  insurance  companies.  They  have  offices 
in  the  Exchange,  or  somewhere,  and  they  "spread 
themselves,"  generally.  Isaac  Gray  was  not  elabo- 
rately conspicuous  among  these  people ;  but,  he  was 
"  one  of  'em." 

Every  man  has  his  weak  point,  and  most  men  are 
strong  on  something.  Isaac  was  strong  on  entertain- 
ing :  that  is,  he  was  master  of  the  art  of  getting  up 
an  agreeable  party. 

The  proof  of  a  dinner,  or  a  supper,  may  lie  in  the 
eating ;  but  the  faculty  of  happily  selecting  guests,  is 
not  among  the  gifts  of  every  one  who  is  in  the  habit 


198  JOHN    DOE   AND   EICHAKD   ROE. 

of  inviting  them.  Isaac,  in  his  day,  had  been  caught 
at  parties  where  no  two  of  the  guests  had  ever  met 
before  or  had  anything  in  common;  and  the  paralytic 
dulness  of  those  experiences  taught  him  a  lesson. 
He  made  the  thing  a  study.  And  he  finally  learned 
that  no  party  should  consist  of  more  people  than  can 
be  seated:  and  that  either  they  should  be,  for  the 
most  part,  mutually  acquainted,  or,  by  pursuits,  hab- 
its, and  tastes,  they  should  have  so  much  in  common 
that  technical  acquaintance  is  superseded  by  conge- 
niality— the  latter  quality  being  the  really  indispen- 
sable condition.  A  party  thus  made  up  is  a  scene 
of  enjoyment.  !No  one  is  glad  when  it  is  over.  The 
people  make  the  party:  the  table  is  only  an  adjunct. 
But  if  the  table  becomes  an  absorbing  feature,  your 
party,  so  far  forth,  is  a  failure.  A  feast  is  a  common- 
place thing  in  which  no  one  can  fail :  and  feasting  is 
a  selfish,  not  a  social,  enjoyment.  Lady  Macbeth 
had  the  right  view  of  that  matter  when,  in  reference  to 
this  very  point,  she  remarked  that  mere  feasting,  or 
feeding,  were  best  done  at  home. 

It  is  tolerably  clear,  that  a  man  whose  wealth  was 
as  dubious  as  Gray's,  even  if  that  personage  did  un- 
derstand the  philosophy  of  entertaining  at  somebody's 
expense,  could  not  well  have  a  son  who,  in  a  pecu- 
niary sense,  was  a  desirable  match  for  a  young  lady. 
Nevertheless,  many  people  supposed  Gray  to  be  rich. 
He  must  be  rich,  or  he  couldn't  spend  so  much  money. 
Gray  was  a  widower  and  Sam  was  his  only  heir. 


Meantime,  the  triangular  duel  of  eyes  had  pro- 
ceeded among  the  Roes  without  any  particular  result. 


JOHN    DOE   AND   EICHAKD    ROE.  199 

But  one  day,  Philip,  having  been  despatched  by 
Mi's.  Roe  with  a  parcel  of  notes  to  station  W,  of  the 
United  States  Post  Office  department,  encountered 
Margaret  in  the  hall,  with  his  hand  full  of  the  afore- 
said missives :  and,  by  mere  chance,  Margaret  caught 
sight  of  one  note  among  the  rest,  addressed  in  a 
strange  hand,  the  chirography  not  being  striking  in 
itself,  but  conspicuous  from  the  single  circumstance 
of  being  unfamiliar.  "Wishing  to  see  more  of  this 
note,  Margaret  inquired  of  Philip  if,  among  those 
notes,  there  was  an  answer  for  Mrs.  McPherson  ? 

Philip,  not  having  explored  the  mysteries  of  read- 
ing and  writing,  was  unable  to  inform  the  young  lady, 
but  the  young  lady  could  see  for  herself,  as  he  sub- 
mitted his  budget  to  her  inspection. 

When  one  person  is  looking  for  something,  a  by- 
stander will  always  help  him  by  looking  too.  Thus 
Philip,  though  wholly  unable  to  read,  very  assidu- 
ously helped  Margaret  to  look  for  a  note  addressed  to 
Mrs.  McPherson. 

The  first  glance  of  Margaret  at  the  note  in  a  strange 
hand,  showed  her  that  it  was  addressed  to  Mr.  Jack- 
son in  a  disguised  character,  and  could  have  ema- 
nated from  no  one  but  Mrs.  Roe.  Her  resolution  was 
taken  on  the  instant,  but  Philip's  officiousness  in 
helping  her  look  was  an  impediment. 

"  Philip,"  said  she,  examining  the  furniture  in  the 
hall,  "  have  you  dusted  those  chairs  to-day  ?" 

Philip  was  as  ready  to  help  Miss  Margaret  look  for 
dust  as  for  notes ;  and  he  inspected  the  chairs,  reply- 
ing triumphantly  that  they  had  been  dusted  that 
morning. 

Margaret  seemed  to  be  satisfied  with  the  answer, 
and  Philip  departed  for  station  W.  In  the  course  of 


200  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

the  same  day,  Margaret  had  occasion  to  pass  station 
"W ;  and,  seeing  nobody  there,  she  went  in  and  depo- 
sited in  the  letter-box  an  envelope  addressed  to 
Richard  Roe,  Esq.,  number  so-and-so,  Wall-street. 
On  the  outside  of  the  envelope,  was  a  very  neat  blue 
stamp ;  and  inside  of  it  was  an  unopened  envelope 
addressed  in  a  disguised  hand  to  Mr.  Jackson. 


Jackson  was  well  acquainted  with  the  several 
members  of  Mrs.  Roe's  family,  as  also  with  Mrs. 
Roe  herself,  previously  to  her  marriage ;  and  as  the 
acquaintance  had  been  subsequently  maintained,  and 
Jackson  often  met  Mrs.  Roe  in  society,  and  frequently 
called  on  her  at  Roe's  house,  one  might  inquire — 
why  this  formality,  and  perhaps  risk,  in  communi- 
cating with  Jackson  by  note,  when  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  events  the  lady  could  and  would  meet  him 
on  common  and  familiar  ground  and  could  say  ver- 
bally what  was  here  written  ? 

The  answer  is,  that  some  people  have  a  fancy  for 
doing  things  mysteriously.  Besides,  since  the  recent 
bitter  and  enlightening  altercation  between  the  three 
Roes,  and  the  mutual  espionage  that  followed  it,  Mrs. 
Roe  came  to  the  conclusion  that  for  the  present  Jack- 
son had  better  discontinue  his  visits;  and  she  had 
already  so  informed  that  gentleman  by  a  note  ad- 
dressed similarly  to  the  one  now  despatched,  but  not 
similarly  interrupted  in  its  journey. 

And  now,  when  the  lady  chanced  to  have  some- 
thing special  to  communicate,  she  took  this  method 
of  sending  it. 


CHAPTEE  XXII. 

OFF    AND    ON    THE    TRACK. 

SUBSEQUENTLY  to  the  Jenkins  hall,  the  Does  had 
made  a  point  of  being  civil  and  attentive  to  the 
reconciled  family.  The  old  friendship,  for  a  time 
interfered  with  by  the  eccentricities  of  the  doctor's 
wife,  was  now  renewed  in  its  original  force  ;  and  the 
careful  avoidance,  by  either  family,  of  all  references 
to  the  past,  showed  that  both  parties  to  the  revival 
tacitly  united  in  a  desire  to  make  the  new  order  of 
things  permanent.  Frequent  interchanges  of  visits — 
not  of  cards — were  among  the  results :  and  whenever 
the  visit  for  the  time  being  took  place  at  the  Does, 
the  Jenkins  children  were  brought  in  to  wake  the 
echoes  of  a  playroom  specially  set  apart  for  their 
use,  and  to  assist  at  the  demolition  of  sweat-meats 
and  waffles  at  a  tea-table  provided  in  the  same 
apartment.  A  visit  to  the  Does  was  a  holiday  of 
holidays  to  the  young  Jenkinses,  Jane  Doe  being  the 
tutelary  genius  of  the  hour,  while  Phebe  Pinch,  as 
titulary  maid  of  honor,  became  responsible  for  a 
share  of  the  entertainment. 

During  one  of  these  reunions,  and  while  the  child- 
ren were  despatching  their  after-tea  frolic,  prepara- 
tory to  going  home,  the  affairs  of  the  Pinch  family 
were  discussed  in  the  parlor. 

Doctor  Jenkins  and  Mr.  Doe  continued  the  sub- 
ject in  a  corner  by  themselves,  after  the  two  ladies 

9*  20; 


202  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   ROE. 

had  branched  off  on  some  other  topic  ;  and  the  doc- 
tor commented  on  the  fortunate  escape  of  Phebe  and 
her  mother  from  the  varioloid,  while  Tom,  though  he 
had  gone  through  the  various  stages  of  the  disease, 
was  unharmed  by  it,  even  in  appearance.  "  Their 
uncle,"  he  added,  "  took  all  the  suffering  to  himself: 
he  is  terribly  disfigured,  and  seems  to  have  been  the 
scape-goat  of  the  family." 

Doe  remarked  that  he  had  never  heard  of  their 
having  such  a  relative. 

"  As  a  scape-goat  ?"  inquired  the  doctor. 

"  As  an  uncle,"  answered  Doe. 

Doctor  Jenkins  said  that  the  man  resided,  or  pro- 
fessed to  reside,  in  Madison,  Wisconsin  ;  and  was 
temporarily  here  on  some  private  business.  But 
there  were  circumstances  about  it  that  puzzled  him. 

"  Such  as  what  ?"  said  Doe. 

"  Why  the  truth  is,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  may 
attach  a  factitious  importance  to  this  thing  by  the 
mere  act  of  mentioning  it.  One  evening,  when  the 
man  was  quite  ill  and  somewhat  flighty,  he  muttered 
something  about  '  papers ;'  and  then,  addressing  him- 
self to  an  imaginary  auditor,  exclaimed  '  you  for-got 
'em,  eh  ?  well,  I've  got  'em,  and  that  makes  all  the 
odds.'  He  also  said  something  about  chloroform, 
though  I  couldn't  make  out  what.  At  the  time,  I 
could  get  no  reply  to  a  counter  question  or  two  that 
I  put  to  him.  But  one  day  when  he  was  convales- 
cent, I  repeated  what  he  had  said,  and  he  was  so 
much  embarrassed  that  I  changed  the  subject  out  of 
sheer  compassion  and  never  afterward  alluded  to  it. 
There  is  one  thing  more,  by  the  way.  lie  professed 
to  hail  from  Madison,  and  I  one  day  made  some 
inquiries  about  the  place  ;  but  he  seemed  to  know  so 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHAED   DOE.  203 

little  of  it,  that  I  doubt  whether  he  has  ever  been 
there.  That's  all,"  added  the  doctor ;  "  and,  on 
repeating  it  now,  I  must  confess  I  don't  think  there's 
much  in  it." 

"  People  of  that  class,"  said  Doe,  musingly,  and 
thinking  more  than  he  said,  "  don't  half  the  time 
know  what  they  are  talking  about." 

The  children  now  came  trooping  into  the  parlor, 
accompanied  by  Jane  and  followed  by  Phebe. 

"  "What !"  said  Mrs.  Jenkins,  rising  as  she  saw 
that  her  little  folks  were  muffled  up  for  departure, 
"  is  it  time  to  go  ?" 

It  appeared  that  it  was  time  to  go  ;  the  clock  hav- 
ing struck  half-past  eight.  Which,  indeed,  is  a  time 
for  all  young  people  to  be  in  bed  ;  whereas,  the 
Jenkinses,  big  and  little,  have  a  walk  before  them 
previously  to  any  one's  going  to  bed.  Adieus  are 
therefore  despatched  and  the  visitors  set  out  for 
home,  a  united  and  happy  family — thanks  to  Alfred 
Traverse. 

No  one  knows  that,  however,  except  Traverse  him- 
self and  the  two  parties  principally  interested.  They 
know — they  appreciate — they  feel  the  value  of  a 
reconciliation  which  was  the  alternative  of  disrup- 
tion, disgrace  and  ruin.  No  volume  is  large  enough 
to  contain  all  the  consequences  of  wantonly  breaking 
up  family  ties,  especially  when  the  welfare  of  child- 
ren is  involved. 

As  the  Jenkinses  withdrew,  Tom  arrived  with  a 
budget  of  restoratives  for  aunt  Smith.  Mr.  Doe 
wished  to  see  him.  And  Tom  came  into  the  parlor. 

Mr.  Doe  went  over  the  routine  of  questions  about 
the  shop,  and  the  health  of  Mrs.  Pinch  ;  and  then 
remarked  that  in  the  opinion  of  doctor  Jenkins, 


204  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHAKD   KOE. 

Tom's  uncle  had  been  very  ill.  The  remark  was  so 
far  interrogatory  in  its  tone,  that  Tom  felt  himself 
compelled  to  make  some  response :  but,  being  greatly- 
confused  at  finding  that  the  family  secret  had  in 
some  way  leaked  out,  he  hesitatingly  answered — 

"  Ye — yes,  sir." 

"  I  don't  think,  Tom,"  continued  Mr.  Doe  care- 
lessly, "  that  you  ever  mentioned  to  me  the  fact  of 
your  uncle's  being  in  town  ?" 

"  !N~ — no,  sir,"  rejoined  Tom,  with  persevering 
brevity,  and  with  a  devout  hope  that  a  gun  would 
go  off,  somewhere  near  at  hand,  so  that  the  sound 
might  change  the  subject. 

But  there  was  no  occasion  to  change  the  subject, 
because  Mr.  Doe  had  no  wish  to  pursue  it.  He  had 
gained  all  he  sought :  namely,  the  fact  that  Tom  was 
under  injunction  of  secrecy  as  to  the  simple  incident 
of  his  uncle's  being  in  town.  That  fact  was  incon- 
sistent with  the  theory  that  matters  were  all  right  at 
the  Pinch  establishment :  and  it  sufficed  to  incite  Doe 
to  a  further  investigation  in  another  quarter.  He 
was  so  entirely  familiar  with  the  history  of  the 
Pinches,  that  he  knew  nothing  could  be  amiss  in 
their  family,  unless  it  was  extraneous  to  their  own 
proper  affairs — and  that  was  just  the  point  of  coinci- 
dence in  Doe's  cogitations. 

Tom  was  hardly  dismissed,  when  Traverse  came  in 
with  Snap.  Traverse,  impatient  at  Snap's  want  of 
success,  and  curious  to  see  a  little  of  Snap's  tactics, 
had  been  out  with  Snap  to  take  a  practical  lesson  in 
the  nice  art  of  detecting.  The  lesson  proved  to  be 
about  as  instructive  as  a  lesson  in  angling  when  the 
fish  won't  bite.  Traverse  gained  nothing  by  his  ex- 
periment but  a  conviction  that  if  Wilson's  detection 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  205 

depended  on  Snap's  detective  powers-in-the-particu- 
lar-instance,  the  case  looked  squally.  But  how  often, 
in  real  life,  "  it  is  darkest  just  before  day  !" 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come  in,"  said  Doe,  without 
waiting  to  inquire  whether  the  couple  had  hunted  to 
purpose.  "  No  doubt,  you  have  had  a  pleasant  walk ; 
but  I,  by  remaining  at  home,  have  found  the  mare's 
nest." 

"  Where's  the  colt  then  ?"  Traverse  inquired. 

Doe  said  it  might  not  turn  out  to  be  a  colt :  it 
might  happen  to  be  a  long  horse  which  proverbially 
is  not  short  in  the  currying.  However,  he  went 
over  the  ground,  such  as  it  was,  at  the  rate  of  two- 
forty. 

The  trio  considered. 

If  for  any  reason  and  by  any  means,  Mrs.  Pinch 
could  have  been  coaxed  or  bribed  into  harboring  a 
fugitive  from  justice,  her  house  was  just  the  place 
for  such  a  hiding  and  Wilson  was  just  the  man  who 
needed  it.  Moreover,  Snap  intimated  that  since,  at 
last,  a  tangible  landing-point  was  in  sight,  he  was 
just  the  man  to  plunge  in  for  it,  sink  or  swim. 

Early  the  next  morning,  Snap  went  to  market. 
He  had  a  busy  day  before  him,  and  he  wanted  his 
marketing  out  of  the  way.  Besides,  he  thought 
Mrs.  Sage  had  overcharged  him  on  turnips,  and  he 
would  inquire  the  prices  of  the  Dutch  grocers  who 
sell  their  stuff  at  smaller  profits.  There  was  a  very 
thriving  man  in  this  business  directly  opposite  the 
residence  of  Mrs.  Pinch.  Snap  would  try  him. 
The  Dutchman's  theory  of  profits  was  found  to  be 
rational,  and  his  wares  were  satisfactory  in  quality 
on  the  whole,  though  the  potatoes  were  rather  small. 
Snap  was  pleased.  He  was  in  want  of  nothing  to- 


JOHN   DOE   AND    KICHAED    ROE. 

day,  for  he  just  then  bethought  himself  that  yes- 
terday he  had  marketed  for  two  days.  But,  he  would 
call  again. 

While  Snap  had  an  eye  to  the  grocer's  merchan- 
dise, he  had  two  eyes  for  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Pinch, 
especially  the  second  story  of  the  house.  And,  in 
one  of  the  windows  he  saw  the  bust  of  a  man  whose 
face,  in  the  deliberate  judgment  of  Snap,  bore  a 
much  stronger  resemblance  to  Beelzebub  than  to 
Wilson.  From  the  nature  of  the  case,  Snap  saw 
that  the  comely  individual  over  there  could  be  no 
other  than  the  uncle  from  Wisconsin.  And  he  took 
up  his  line  of  march  for  Doe's  house,  gazing  at  the 
miniature  copy  of  Wilson's  face  as  obtained  at  the 
Rogue's  Gallery,  and  muttering  to  himself  that  'twas 
no  use  to  look  "  on  that  picture  and  on  this." 

Snap  had  not  taken  the  varioloid  into  account. 

On  the  previous  evening,  when  Snap  had  parted 
from  Doe  and  Traverse,  with  instructions  to  make 
the  reconnoissance  just  described,  Doe  became 
aware  that  he  had  gone  too  fast  in  thus  employing 
Snap. 

So  long  as  Wilson  was  at  large  and  inaccessible  to 
lay -hunting,  the  agency  of  Snap  was  indispensable : 
and  Doe  had  to  take  his  chance  what  to  do  and  how 
to  do,  in  case  Wilson  was  found  by  Snap.  But  pri- 
vate bargaining  with  escaped  criminals  is  rather  haz- 
ardous, especially  if  it  ends  in  furnishing  facility  for 
further  escape :  and  when  things  came  to  that  pass, 
if  they  ever  did  come  to  it,  the  fewer  the  persons  who 
were  engaged  in  the  matter,  the  safer  would  it  be  for 
them. 

In  the  excitement  of  what  Doe  reasonably  thought 
would  prove  to  be  a  full  discovery  of  the  whereabout 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   ROE.  207 

of  Wilson,  by  the  unconscious  revelation  of  doctor 
Jenkins,  Doe  had  heedlessly  stated  to  both  Traverse 
and  Snap  what  he  might  more  wisely  have  reserved 
for  Traverse's  ear  alone.  Hence,  on  the  morning 
now  in  question,  and  after  Doe  and  Traverse  had 
fully  considered  the  matter,  when  Snap  made  the 
discouraging  report  that  the  Wisconsin  "  uncle  "  was 
no  more  like  Wilson  than  chalk  is  like  cheese,  Doe 
coolly  accepted  the  information  as  a  final  disap- 
pointment, and  allowed  Snap  to  consider  the  chase 
as  good  as  given  up.  For  Doe  now  saw  that  he 
could  gain  access  to  Wilson  without  Snap's  inter- 
vention, and  could  carry  out  the  affair  much  more 
safely  to  himself  without  Snap's  aid  or  cognizance. 

The  immediate  business  of  the  interview  being 
closed,  Snap  might  have  withdrawn ;  but  he  had 
another  iron  in  the  fire,  more  particularly,  as  he 
found  the  chance  for  his  second  two  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  disappearing.  He  therefore  submitted  the  fol- 
lowing facts  to  Doe's  consideration. 

In  the  first  place,  Snap  had  become  aware  of  the 
fact  that  John  Doe  had  a  suit  at  law  against  Richard 
Roe ;  and  he  entertained  an  opinion  that  when  one 
man  has  an  important  law-suit  against  another,  the 
one  man,  comparatively  speaking,  likes  nothing  bet- 
ter than  to  get  hold  of  private  information  damaging 
to  the  other  man,  whether  or  not  the  information 
has  any  relevancy  to  the  matters  legally  at  issue. 

That  was  Snap's  "  first  place ;"  and,  after  some  con- 
sideration, Doe  admitted  its  truth — "  without  preju- 
dice," however. 

In  the  second  place,  Snap  in  his  peregrinations 
about  the  doubtful  and  not  doubtful  quarters  of  the 
metropolis,  angling  and  bobbing  and  trolling  for  the 


208  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

person  of  Wilson,  had  unexpectedly  hooked  other 
game.  He  had  not  caught  the  dolphin,  but  he  had 
by  the  gills  what  might  prove  a  valuable  substitute 
to  his  employer. 

Snap  paused  in  his  oracular  allegory,  to  see  how 
it  took.  But  it  did  not  take  at  all.  Mr.  Doe  failed 
to  see  what  all  this  rigmarole  had  to  do  with  Richard 
Eoe. 

Snap  flattered  himself  that  it  had  much  to  do  with 
Richard  Roe ;  and,  to  drop  the  allegory  or  the  rig- 
marole, which  Snap  supposed  to  be  convertible 
terms,  he  would  say  in  plain  English  that  he  had 
several  times  seen  Richard  Roe  make  an  evening  call 
at  a  house,  number  so-and-so,  where  a  man  of  Roe's 
position  and  professions  had  no  right  to  go ;  and 
where  by  possibility  he  could  not  go  with  either  a 
good  or  justifiable  motive. 

"  "Well,  Snap,"  said  Doe,  after  a  little  reflection, 
"  this  is  so  far  so  good — or  so  bad,  rather.  But  what 
can  you  make  of  it  ?" 

Snap  rather  thought  he  could  make  considerable 
of  it,  if  such  was  Mr.  Doe's  pleasure.  Just  let 
Mr.  Doe  and  Mr.  Traverse  think  it  up,  and  see  if 
they  didn't  think  so,  too  ?  Let  them  consider  that  he 
could  prove  the  visits  already  made,  and  no  doubt 
could  prove  others  to  be  made. 

"  What  is  the  character  of  the  house  ?"  demanded 
Traverse. 

"  I  can't  say,  positive,  sir ;  that  is,  particular,"  said 
Snap. 

"  Then,"  rejoined  Traverse,  "  what  can  you  make 
of  Roe's  going  there  ?" 

"  Oh,  sir,"  replied  Snap,  "  I  know  the  neighborhood 
just  like  a  knife,  and  you  may  bet  high  there's  no- 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  209 

body  lives  thereabout  who  is  in  Mr.  Roe's  line — that 
is,"  he  added,  "  no  line  that  he  would  own  to." 

"  Snap,"  said  Doe,  "  I  don't  much  fancy  this  thing, 
and  I  am  by  no  means  sure  how  we  shall  come  out 
of  it,  if  we  once  get  in.  My  controversy  with  Roe 
is  for  the  benefit  of  others,  and  although  the  suit  is  a 
righteous  one,  it  may  fail  for  want  of  evidence.  As 
you  have  proceeded  in  this  without  my  sanction 
hitherto,  you  may  as  well  carry  it  through  to  your 
proofs  in  the  same  manner.  If  when  you  place  the 
proof  before  us,  we  can  make  anything  out  of  it  to 
further  the  suit,  1  will  certainly  account  with  you  for 
it  in  proportion  to  its  value.  But  I  can  make  no  fur- 
ther promise,  now.  If  I  did  not  Tcnow  Richard  Roe 
to  be  a  hypocrite  and  a  scoundrel,  I  would  not  listen 
to  your  proposal." 

"  All  right  for  you,  sir,"  said  Snap,  as  he  finally 
took  leave. 

"  Can  we  make  anything  of  this,  Traverse  ?"  said 
Doe. 

"  In  a  supposable  contingency,"  Traverse  replied, 
"  I  think  we  may  make  a  screw  of  it." 


CHAPTEE    XXIII. 

TOM    AND   PHEBE. 

AN  apothecary's  shop  having  any  claims  to  repect- 
ability,  must  be  thus  organized,  namely  :  one  princi- 
pal, one  assistant,  one  boy.  More  than  this  may  be 
desirable ;  less  than  this,  is  inadmissible.  Mr.  Scalpel 
had  more  than  this.  He  had  two  assistants,  each  of 
whom  was  nearly  as  expert  as  himself  in  compound- 
ing drugs ;  he  had  Tom,  who  was  equivalent  to  two 
boys,  as  boys  run  ;  and  he  had  a  supernumerary  porter 
who  swept  the  shop,  made  the  fires,  dusted  the  coun- 
ters and  trundled  about  heavy  casks  and  boxes. 

As  among  men  generally,  Mr.  Scalpel  was  nothing 
particular.  He  was  respectable  in  his  vocation,  pros- 
perous in  business,  and  well  provided  in  the  matters 
of  family  and  friends.  But  as  the  head  of  this  esta- 
blishment, he  was  Tom's  special  admiration  and 
reverence. 

Every  habit  or  peculiarity  of  Mr.  Scalpel  was,  to 
Tom,  a  perfection.  And  as  it  is  one  of  the  general 
rules  that  has  no  exception,  that  whatever  one 
admires  one  will  imitate,  Tom  "  took  after "  his  em- 
ployer in  everything  where  imitation  was  possible. 
For,  example,  the  dignified  walk  of  Mr.  Scalpel  from 
the  front-door  to  the  rear  of  the  shop,  was  a  little  be- 
yond Tom's  mark ;  but  the  solemn,  stately  squeaking 
of  Mr.  Scalpel's  boots  at  every  step  of  that  walk 

seemed  to  be  attainable,  if  Tom  could  get  his  own 
210 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  211 

shoemaker  to  supply  himself  with  the  right  material 
for  soles.  And,  early  in  his  apprenticeship,  he  called 
on  Mr.  Crispin  for  squeaking  leather.  But  that  honest 
mechanic  gravely  informed  Tom  that  the  squeaking 
of  sole  leather  was  a  mystery  and  an  accident ;  ,and 
that  Tom  would  do  better  to  wait  for  it  till  he  came 
of  age. 

Again,  Mr.  Scalpel  had  that  magnificent  trumpet- 
tone  style  of  blowing  his  nose,  which  some  men 
attain  and  other  men  hold  to  be  a  mystery  or  an 
accident.  This  caught  Tom's  ear  at  once,  and  the 
aspiring  youth  gave  chase  to  it.  But  here,  too,  he 
was  destined  to  disappointment.  He  tried  it  squarely. 
He  tried  it  obliquely.  He  tried  it  sitting,  stooping, 
leaning  backward.  He  stood  up  on  a  chair  to  try  it. 
But  all  he  accomplished  was  a  chronic  nose-bleed, 
which  his  mother  finally  got  under  by  tying  a  string 
of  red  sewing  silk  about  his  neck. 

The  elder  of  Mr.  Scalpel's  two  assistants,  Frederick 
Jones  by  name,  was  a  young  man  not  quite  one-and- 
twenty,  whose  tact  and  efficiency  in  the  business  had 
for  some  time  led  Mr.  Scalpel  to  see  both  the  advan- 
tage and  the  necessity  of  making  him  permanent  in 
the  establishment,  by  offering  him  a  partnership. 
This  offer  had  not  yet  been  made,  but  it  soon  would 
be. 

It  was  one  of  the  propitious  items  in  Tom's  history 
that,  from  the  first,  Jones  had  taken  an  interest,  in 
the  boy,  and  not  only  smoothed  away  many  of  the 
asperities  of  his  initiation  ;  but,  by  hints,  reminders 
and  instructions,  helped  him  to  avoid  mistakes,  to  do 
everything  well,  and  to  make  much  actual  progress 
in  what  belonged  to  the  higher  departments  of  the 
business. 


212  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   ROE. 

Thus,  he  mastered  the  mysterious  mechanism  of  the 
soda-water  fountain,  in  the  first  week  of  his  appren- 
ticeship ;  and  he  showed  such  readiness  in  manipu- 
lating the  syrup-decanters  and  in  graduating  the 
force  of  the  effervescent  stream  into  the  tumblers, 
that  the  services  of  the  second  assistant  were  soon 
superseded  at  this  station. 

Again,  he  rapidly  caught  the  art  of  making  up 
and  tying  up  those  neat  paper-parcels,  in  which 
exercise  apothecaries  are  unrivalled.  He  then  learned 
the  prices  of  all  the  nice  little  things  in  the  glass 
cases,  such  as  soap,  combs,  brushes,  perfumery  and 
a  long  catalogue  of  etceteras.  And  at  intervals  of 
leisure,  and  in  evenings  and  rainy  days,  Jones 
taught  him  first  to  read  and  then  to  copy  from  the 
Pharmacopoeia  the  names  of  medicines  with  their 
abbreviations  and  the  signs  designating  quantity. 
And  he  gradually  interpreted  to  him  those  cabalistic 
combinations  'of  vowels  and  consonants  which,  in 
black  letters  or  blue  letters  on  a  golden  ground, 
make  such  a  magnificent  display  on  the  swelling  fronts 
of  huge  bottles,  covering  both  sides  of  the  shop  like 
a  wall  from  the  ceiling  down  to  invisibility. 

Tom  was,  therefore,  through  the  kind  ofiices  of 
Mr.  Doe,  in  the  first  instance,  aided  by  the  intelli- 
gent kindness  of  Jones,  and  his  own  good  qualities, 
on  the  high  road  to  fortune. 

The  wants  of  Mrs.  Pinch,  in  the  apothecary-line, 
were  small ;  yet,  now  and  then  she  needed  a  trifle, 
and  her  patronage  was  very  properly  bestowed  on 
Tom's  shop.  On  these  occasions,  Phebe  often  acted 
as  her  mother's  messenger.  Phebe  was  a  very  pretty 
girl,  and  her  contact  with  the  Does  and  other  good 
families  where  she  was  employed,  combined  with  a 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   EOE.  213 

natural  grace  of  figure  and  deportment,  gave  her  a 
lady-like  manner  beyond  her  actual  station.  It  was, 
therefore,  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that 
Jones  should  have  been  taken  by  her  appearance, 
and  should  have  desired  to  become  acquainted  with 
her.  For  Jones  had  himself  sprung  from  the  ranks, 
as  Tom  did.  He  had  commenced  his  business-life 
with  Mr.  Scalpel,  as  Tom  did,  though  not  under  so 
many  favorable  auspices.  He  had  worked  his  way 
up  from  a  poor  boy,  to  a  well-to-do  man  ;  and  he  had 
not  forgotten  his  origin,  nor  the  ideas  properly  apper- 
taining to  it. 

In  view  of  these  precedent  facts,  it  may  easily  be 
believed  that  Jones  found  no  insurmountable  diffi- 
culty in  obtaining  from  Tom,  with  his  mother's  con- 
currence, an  invitation  to  tea  on  a  Sunday  evening ; 
Sunday  being  the  only  evening  of  the  week  when  the 
two  could  take  a  turn  of  absence  from  the  shop. 

Tom  was  much  elated,  and  not  a  little  delighted  at 
having  so  important  an  accession  to  his  mother's  tea- 
table:  and  after  Jones's  departure,  he  expatiated 
much  beyond  his  wont  on  the  good  qualities  and  effi- 
cient kindness  to  himself,  of  his  superior  officer.  In 
fact,  Jones  had  laid  himself  out  to  be  agreeable  ;  he 
was  a  pleasant  young  man,  both  in  appearance  and 
manners,  and  Mrs.  Pinch  was  quite  as  much  gratified 
as  Tom.  It  is  needless  to  say  Chat  Jones,  also,  was 
much  gratified  ;  and  hence,  his  visit  was  a  success  ; 
and  he  was  pressingly  invited  to  repeat  it. 

Phebe  seemed  to  be  abstracted,  or  preoccupied, 
after  Jones  took  leave.  She  made  no  remark  about 
him  whatever:  a  fact  that  Tom  and  her  mother  would 
hardly  have  overlooked,  if  they  had  not  been  so  busy 
in  making  their  own  remarks.  Phebe  might  have 


214:  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   KOE. 

acquired  a  new  idea,  or  a  new  sensation  :  or,  she 
might  have  been  anxious  about  uncle  Sam's  health. 
At  any  rate,  shs  listened  and  said  nothing. 

"  The  art  of  our  necessities  is  strange,"  says  the 
world's  great  dramatist :  and  the  axiom  covers  a  mul- 
titude of  common  experiences.  It  may  be  variously 
paraphrased,  according  to  the  various  specialities  in 
which  an  art  grows  out  of  a  necessity  ;  or,  perhaps, 
more  strictly  speaking,  the  necessity  creates  the  art. 
Thus,  people  in  this  world  do  what  they  must  do. 
Things  difficult  when  they  are  unnecessary,  become 
easy  whenever  they  become  indispensable. 

For  example,  the  children  of  poor  people  develop 
their  physical  a*nd  mental  capacities  much  more 
rapidly  than  children  who  are  luxuriously  cared  for. 
The  former  will  learn  to  walk,  talk  and  help  them- 
selves at  one  year  old,  as  well  as  the  latter  do  at  two. 
That  is  a  single  illustration  among  hundreds  :  and  it 
is  all  the  stronger,  from  the  fact  that  the  little  actors 
who  do  so  much  from  necessity,  are  not  themselves 
aware  of  the  necessity. 

Another  illustration  may  be  found  in  the  history  of 
courtships,  as  conducted  by  people  in  different  situa- 
tions of  life. 

Take  the  country  bumpkin  who  has  plenty  of  long 
winter  evenings  at  his  disposal,  and  has,  therefore,  no 
occasion  to  be  in  haste.  He  will  make  a  call  on 
Polly  Bissell,  just  at  the  moment  when  the  tea-things 
are  washed  up  and  put  away,  which  will  be  long 
enough  before  six  o'clock :  and  he  will  then  post  him- 
self in  one  corner  of  the  huge  old-fashioned  fire-place, 
while  Polly  occupies  the  other ;  and  there  he  will  sit, 
looking  at  the  fire — looking  around  the  room — occa- 
sionally catching  Polly's  eye,  and  dodging  quickly 


JOHN    DOE    AND    RICHARD    ROE.  215 

away  from  it — until  ten  o'clock,  p.  M.,  without  open- 
ing his  lips.  Perhaps  at  the  next  visit,  perhaps  not 
till  the  second  or  third  after  the  next,  he  screws  up 
his  courage  to  hold  Polly's  eye  when  he  catches  it : 
and  after  a  time  he  ventures  to  grin ;  and  perhaps 
Polly  grins  back.  After  six  months,  or  twelve 
months  of  these  silent  sittings,  Polly  will  remark 
abruptly,  at  half-past  ten  o'clock — "  Eh  ? — did  you 
speak  2" 

"  No,"  replies  Jacob,  delighted  at  an  opportunity, 
at  last,  to  make  a  remark  which  is  not  embarrass- 
ing. 

"  Well,"  rejoins  Polly,  "  it's  time  you  did  !" 

On  the  other  hand,  take  the  man  of  little  leisure. 
Take  an  apothecary's  assistant,  who  has  as  nearly 
no  leisure  at  all  as  any  man  in  the  realm.  Can  he 
afford  to  waste  months  of  evenings  in  one  chimney- 
corner  while  Polly  sits  silent  in  the  other?  No, 
sir !  He  makes  short  work  of  his  courtship  because 
he  must.  That's  the  argument.  His  necessities,  in 
the  matter  of  time,  enable  him  to  do  in  a  week,  or 
a  month,  what  Jacob  Bumpkin  boggles  at  for  a  year 
or  two.  In  other  words,  the  art  of  his  necessity 
helps  him  out. 

It  is  highly  probable,  considering  the  age  of  the 
young  woman  and  some  other  circumstances,  that 
Jones  mav  have  commenced  his  negotiations  with 

*/  o 

Mrs.  Pinch  as  Mediatrix  Plenipotentiary,  being 
thereto  encouraged  by  the  very  silence  of  Phebe. 
But,  whoever  spoke  first,  and  whoever  was  spoken 
to,  and  whatever  was  said,  certain  it  is  that  Jones, 
of  late,  seldom  takes  tea  of  a  Sunday  evening  else- 
where than  at  Mrs.  Pinch's ;  and  probable  it  is, 


216  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHAED   BOB. 

that  the  new  idea  acquired  by  Phebe  on  Jones's  first 
visit,  has  taken  a  definite  shape. 

At  any  rate,  Phebe  is  no  longer  reserved  in 
Jones's  presence :  but  she  is  as  cheerful  and  loqua- 
cious and  happy  when  that  gentleman  is  in  her 
company  as  when  he  is  absent.  Rather  more  so, 
indeed. 


CHAPTEK  XXIY. 

ROE   HAS   HIS   HANDS   FULL. 

CONSIDERING  the  various  good  things  that  the 
friends  of  Richard  Roe  have  in  pickle  for  him,  the 
probabilities  do  seem  to  be,  that,  despite  his  piety, 
his  bold  complacency  and  his  dollars,  the  good  man 
may  be  coming  to  grief. 

He  has,  indeed,  in  times  past,  and  many  times  too, 
slipped  his  neck  out  of  halters  that  would  have  choked 
anybody  else :  and  his  constant  escapes  appear  to  have 
impressed  on  him  a  conviction  not  only  that  he  bears 
a  charmed  life,  but  that  acts  which  nobody — and 
least  of  all,  Richard  Roe — would  endure  in  others, 
become  even  meritorious  by  becoming  his.  His  fund 
of  grace  is  so  large,  that  it  flavors  and  sanctifies  crime 
itself,  when  he  commits  it. 

Can  this  state  of  impunity,  nevertheless,  continue  ? 

Richard  had  hitherto  suffered  very  little  from  com- 
punction ;  nothing  beyond  slight  and  evanescent 
twinges  of  conscience,  by  reason  of  transactions 
which  he  well  knew  were  unmitigated  swindling — 
except  in  the  affair  with  Wilson.  His  dread  of  the 
reappearance  of  the  papers  in  that  man's  possession 
still  haunted  him :  for,  if  they  should,  by  any  chance, 
come  to  light  in  adverse  hands,  neither  his  impudence 
nor  his  complacency,  neither  his  grace  nor  his  dollars, 
could  save  him  from  an  open  shame.  Wilson  had, 
however,  been  a  long  time  absent.  He  had,  so  far, 

10  2" 


218  JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHAKD   KOE. 

successfully  evaded  pursuit.  Detection  became,  now, 
every  day  less  and  less  probable.  Improbabilities 
were  fast  approaching  the  domains  of  impossibilities. 
In  short,  Reason  cried  "  peace,"  while  Tear  whis- 
pered, "  there  is  no  peace." 

Richard  was  wading  through  the  mazes  of  this 
ratiocination,  one  day,  in  his  private  office,  when  two 
letters  were  given  to  him,  each  of  them  addressed  in 
an  unknown  hand.  One  of  them  would  seem  to  be  a 
lady's  hand,  and  Richard  gave  precedence  to  that  by 
opening  it  first. 

All  that  he  found  in  the  envelope  was  another 
envelope,  sealed,  and  addressed  to  Jackson.  That 
was  odd.  On  reflection,  it  was  very  odd. 

"  Mr.  Jackson !"  he  began,  calling  to  him  in  the 
adjoining  office ;  but  in  a  moment  he  caught  a  second 
thought. 

"  Did  you  call,  sir?"  said  Jackson,  poking  his  head 
through  the  door-way,  as  he  opened  the  door. 

No.  Mr.  Roe  did  not  call.  He  merely — a — he 
wouldn't  interrupt  Mr.  Jackson.  He  had  nothing  to 
say.  And  Jackson  resumed  his  occupation  as  unsus- 
piciously as  Roe  had  interrupted  it. 

The  rascalities  of  Roe  were,  for  the  most  part, 
graduated  on  a  large  scale.  The  natural  course  of 
his  business  lay  somewhat  out  of  the  track  of  sneak- 
ing villainy ;  and,  from  force  of  habit,  not  from  any 
impulse  of  principle,  he  had  avoided  that.  For 
instance,  his  line  of  practice  had  not  led  him  into 
such  peccadilloes  as  opening  other  people's  letters : 
and  when  an  opportunity  for  that  sort  of  thing  thus 
suddenly  presented  itself,  he  did  not  go  about  it  as 
promptly  and  unhesitatingly  as  an  expert  might  have 
done. 


JOHN   DOE    AND   RICHARD   ROE*  219 

Yet  here  was  a  letter  for  another  man ;  and  that 
man,  Jackson ;  the  very  man  concerning  whom  he, 
Hoe,  had  some  vague  suspicions,  and  whose  secrets 
therefore  it  was  desirable  for  Roe  to  be  cognizant  of, 
by  way  of  retaliation.  And  this  communication  from 
a  lady — eh  ?  could  it  be — no  !  no !  not  quite  so  bad 
as  that !  He  scrutinized  the  writing,  though,  as  if 
his  eyes  had  been  microscopes  !  No  ! — This  commu- 
nication from  a  lady  was  the  most  opportune  little 
incident  in  the  world.  Besides,  the  fact  of  its  being 
enclosed  to  Roe,  showed  that  some  one  had  taken 
that  method  for  the  very  purpose  of  exposing  Jack- 
son. 

This  course  of  reasoning  took  the  matter  out  of  the 
category  of  improprieties,  and  placed  it  among  the 
duties  that  Richard  Roe  owed  to  society,  both  as  a 
banker  and  a  church-member.  Richard  would  on  no 
account  open  Mr.  Jackson's  letters,  or  Mr.  Anybody's 
letters,  under  ordinary  circumstances.  But  this  case 
was  different.  "  Different "  was  a  favorite  word  with 
Roe.  Whenever  any  one  took  the  trouble  to  show  , 
him  that  his  acts  or  words  of  to-day  flatly  contra- 
dicted his  acts  or  words  of  yesterday,  Roe  invariably 
ended  the  discussion  before  it  began  by  the  conclusive 
remark,  that  "  that  is  different." 

The  repetition  now,  to  himself,  of  the  familiar 
phrase  which  had  settled  so  many  disputed  points, 
necessarily  settled  this  point  on  the  spot,  and  Roe 
examined  the  sealing  of  the  letter. 

The  sealing  had  been  carefully  performed.  The 
triangular  leaf,  or  fold,  adhered  neatly  to  the  envelope 
along -its  entire  edge  up  to  the  very  corners,  on  both 
sides.  Indeed,  the  edges  were  so  closely  pasted,  that 
they  seemed  to  be  incorporated  with  the  main  body, 


220  JOHN    DOE  AND   KICHARD   EOE. 

This  was  anything  but  encouraging  on  the  theory 
that  Richard  had  intuitively  adopted :  namely,  that 
he  had  better  reserve  the  option  of  forwarding  the 
letter,  seemingly  in  its  integrity,  to  its  destination 
after  he  had  mastered  its  contents.  Besides,  suppose 
the  letter  revealed  nothing  and  exposed  nothing ; 
but  was  a  proper  communication  sent  under  cover  to 
Boe,  in  good  faith,  from  a  responsible  party  and  for 
greater  certainty  of  being  safely  delivered — in  which 
case,  the  writer  might  happen  to  make  troublesome 
inquiries  some  day,  if  the. letter  did  not  go  properly 
to  hand  ! 

These  arguments  covered  the  entire  ground:  ex- 
pediency, propriety,  safety,  conscience  and  all. 

"  There  is  a  way,"  said  Roe,  trying  to  recollect 
something  a  little  out  of  reach  ;  "  is  it  steaming  the 
letter  till  the  gum  softens  ?  But  if  that  is  it,  I  have 
no  such  facilities  here.  Let  me  see,"  holding  the 
letter  to  the  light :  "  the  note  is  narrower  than  the 
envelope.  If  the  lower  edge  is  nicely  cut,  it  may  be 
carefully  gummed  up  again." 

And,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  Richard 
applied  the  point  of  a  pen-knife  to  a  corner  of  the 
lower  edge  of  the  envelope  and  ran  it  along  the 
crease  of  the  paper  in  a  perfectly  straight  line.  So 
far,  so  good.  The  letter  was  open. 

"  DEAR  J, — It  is  important  that  I  should  see  you.  Be  at  the 
Dusseldorf  on  Thursday  at  half-past  four.  Z." 

"  So,  so,  Mr.  Jackson  I  are  you  there  with  your 
bears  ?"  muttered  Roe. 

He  made  a  note  of  the  Dusseldorf  Gallery,  Thurs- 
day, four  and  a  half;  and  hastened  to  restore  the 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  221 

letter  to  its  original  condition.  The  task  was  not  dif- 
ficult. By  taking  some  pains  in  adjusting  the  brush 
of  the  gum-bottle,  he  contrived  to  paint  a  narrow 
stripe  of  the  mucilage  just  within  the  edge  and 
between  the  two  sides  of  the  envelope  where  he  had 
cut  it ;  and  then,  by  an  easy  and  uniform  pressure, 
he  brought  them  to  adhere  so  perfectly  that  no  one 
who  was  not  looking  for  such  a  thing  would  have 
observed  it.  And,  as  Richard  said,  "  who  thinks  of 
examining  the  lower  edge  of  an  envelope  ?" 

"Thursday!"  thought  Eoe,  as  he  pocketed  the 
letter,  and  resolved  to  dispose  of  it  by  dropping  it 
into  the  Post-Office  as  he  went  past :  "all  right. 
Thursday  at  half-past  four  for  you:  Thursday  at 
three-quarters  past  four  for  me.  I  will  just  drop  in 
and  see  who  is  Mr.  Jackson's  anonymous  corres- 
pondent." 

Now  for  the  other  letter.  This  must  be  from  some 
man,  known  or  unknown. 

And  with  an  overflowing  amount  of  good  humor 
and  complacency  at  the  way  he  had  "  done "  Mr. 
Jackson,  he  opened  the  second  missive.  He  opened 
it  mechanically,  however.  He  opened  it  without 
looking  at  it.  He  was  grinning,  and  chuckling,  and 
laughing  in  his  sleeve  over  the  prospective  discom- 
fiture of  "  poor  Jackson  "  next  Thursday,  at  four-and- 
three-quarters,  when  his  eye  caught  the  italicized 
words,  "  a  vial  of  chloroform."  A  more  compre- 
hensive and  appreciative  glance  apprised  Richard 
Roe  that,  good  as  the  joke  was  on  Jackson,  this  last 
letter  was  no  joke  at  all.  He  therefore  retracted  his 
laugh  at  Jackson  by  laughing  out  of  the  other  corner 
of  his  mouth. 

"  Fire  and  fury !"  he  exclaimed  with  an  impetu- 


222  JOHN   DOE    AND    RICHARD   ROE. 

osity  as  natural  as  it  was  unbecoming  ;  "  am  I  to  be 
the  victim  of  that  scoundrel,  after  all !  What  an  ass 
have  I  been  to  put  myself  in  his  power  ! — '  For  sale 
for  cash  !'  '  Valuable  to  the  owner  !'"  he  continued, 
re-examining  Wilson's  letter  :  "  damn  him  !  it  is  like 
the  sneer  of  a  tiger.  Let  a  man  pass  one  point  in 
such  an  issue  as  this,  and  what  remains  but  a  whole 
life  under  suspense  and  extortion  ?  By  heaven,  I  will 
not  submit  to  it !  He  would  know  my  terms,  would 
he?  and  by  advertisement?  He  shall  have  my 
terms ;  but  not  through  a  newspaper !  He  shall 
have  them  from  the  muzzle  of  a  pistol,  or  the  point 
of  a  bowie-knife.  I  will  treat  him  just  like  a  snake  : 
just  like  a  snake  !" 

But  how  to  meet  him,  was  a  question.  How  to 
secure  an  interview  ?  The  appointment  of  time  and 
place  by  advertisement  was  out  of  the  question,  for 
that  would  put  other  people  on  watch.  He  could 
call  for  an  appointment  through  the  newspaper  ;  and 
Wilson,  knowing  Roe's  address,  could  fix  time  and 
place  for  a  preliminary  meeting  by  private  note. 
That  would  do.  And  when  Roe  could  once  see  Wil- 
son and  appoint  his  own  rendezvous,  Roe  would  make 
such  an  end  of  the  business  as  would  leave  no  further 
contrivances  necessary ! 

He  hastily  prepared  an  advertisement  to  the  effect 
that  the  application  of  "  SLY"  would  receive  proper 
attention,  whenever  he  would,  by  note,  fix  a  suitable 
time  and  place  for  an  interview.  He  then  left  his 
office  and  made  the  requisite  disposition  of  the  note 
for  Jackson  and  of  the  newspaper  notice. 

When  Roe  reached  home,  he  found  the  ladies  pre- 
paring to  dine  at  Gray's ;  an  engagement  which  he 
had  forgotten  in  the  excitement  of  the  morning :  and 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  223 

he  set  about  his  own  preparations,  very  reluctantly. 
He  was  in  no  mood  for  mingling  with  society,  and 
would  much  rather  have  remained  at  home.  But  an 
accepted  invitation  to  dine  may  not  be  repudiated  at 
the  eleventh  hour.  Hence,  the  worthy  banker  forced 
himself  to  go. 

Bichard  had  a  standing  and  conscientious  objection 
to  dinner  parties,  apart  from  his  disinclination  on  this 
particular  day,  arising  from  the  impediments  to  Grace 
before  Meat  that  are  incident  to  the  very  nature  of 
the  entertainment.  From  time  immemorial,  he  had 
inflexibly  performed  that  service  at  his  own  family 
table ;  not  only  because  it  was  customary  and  right 
and  enjoined  by  the  clergy ;  and  was  moreover  a 
proper  example,  an  edifying  ceremony  and  a  fitting 
acknowledgment  of  bounties  received ;  but  also  be- 
cause he  found  it  improved  his  digestion.  To  be 
sure,  the  last  consideration  might  be  a  mere  fancy  ; 
Richard  might  deceive  himself  by  such  a  belief;  but 
he  had  little  fear  of  those  self-deceptions  that  were 
on  the  religious  side  of  a  question.  "  If  one  must 
err,"  he  said,  "  better  err  on  the  safe  side."  The 
safe  side  was  his  favorite  side,  all  the  world  over. 
Richard  therefore  objected  to  dinner  parties  on  the 
joint  ground  of  conscience  and  digestion. 

Nevertheless,  as  the  dinner  party  had  become  a 
social  necessity,  -  and  frequently  in  Roe's  case  was 
made  use  of  to  promote  his  business  interests,  Richard 
philosophically  gave  way  to  it  both  in  his  own  house 
and  elsewhere.  But  not  recklessly — not  heedlessly — 
not  unprovided  with  an  antidote  to  the  pernicious 
entertainment,  did  the  good  man  rush  to  the  festive 
board.  As  on  other  occasions,  so  on  the  present 
occasion,  he  "  asked  the  blessing"  in  advance,  before 


224  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHARD   KOE. 

he  left  his  dressing-room ;  which  was  equivalent,  in 
Roe's  professional  parlance,  to  asking  it  "  on  time," 
taking  the  dinner  on  trust,  ad  interim.  By  thi& 
means,  he  not  only  saved  his  conscience  and  his 
digestion ;  but  he  gained  great  credit  with  the  people 
of  the  world  ;  because,  for  all  that  they  could  see  to 
the  contrary,  he  sat  down  to  meat  just  like  any  ordi- 
nary sinner,  while  everybody  at  the  table  knew  at 
how  cruel  a  sacrifice  he  dispensed  with  his  accus- 
tomed privilege  of  Grace.  Thus,  among  other  ways, 
did  the  good  Richard  make  his  light  shine  before 
men. 

Roe  and  Gray  had  a  great  respect  for  each  other. 
They  were  in  fact  a  mutual  admiration  society,  com- 
posed of  two  members.  Gray  looked  up  to  Roe,  for 
his  wealth ;  Roe,  in  turn,  looked  up  to  Gray  for  the 
myterious  charm  of  his  dinner  parties — he  got  them 
up  so  much  better  than  Roe  could,  and  Roe  had 
never  been  able  to  learn  the  reason.  The  reason  is, 
that  Gray  had  the  tact  to  let  his  guests — properly 
selected,  in  the  first  place — shine  and  display  them- 
selves /  whereas,  the  conceit  and  thick-headedness  of 
Roe  never  suffered  him  to  play  the  "  humble  host," 
as  Macbeth  has  it :  (another  proof,  be  it  parentheti- 
cally observed,  that  the  Macbeths  were  well-bred 
people:)  consequently,  Roe  never  gave  his  own 
guests  a  fair  chance.  He  never  left  them  to  make 
their  own  demonstrations  in  their  own  way.  He 
elaborately  "  spread  "  himself \  in  the  first  instance ; 
and  then  patronizingly  brought  out  his  guests,  accord- 
ing to  what  he  considered  their  best  paces. 

The  present  party  at  Gray's  was  made  up  chiefly 
of  common  friends ;  but  the  Honorable  Augustus 
Snob,  Minister  Plenipotentiary,  Envoy  Extraordinary 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  225 

and  Ambassador  in  Particular,  to  the  coast  of  Mo- 
rocco, had  arrived  in  town  with  his  wife  and  sister, 
from  the  Far  West,  via  the  capital :  they  were  about 
to  sail  for  the  sphere  of  their  diplomatic  usefulness 
in  a  day  or  two:  and  Gray,  with  his  usual  luck, 
had  caught  them  as  a  feature  of  his  dinner.  Gray 
necessarily  appropriated  the  wife  of  the  minister  as 
his  right  and  on  his  right :  and  Roe,  being  his  chief 
gentleman-guest,  next  to  the  strangers,  was  gratified 
by  having  that  lady's  sister  assigned  to  him. 

It  is  superfluous  to  remark  that  even  the  sister  of  a 
man  who  has  been  selected  by  government  as  its 
representative  at  a  foreign  court,  was  a  highly  edu- 
cated and  thoroughly  accomplished  woman.  But 
Miss  Snob,  nevertheless,  had  an  infirmity  that,  to  a 
certain  extent,  embarrassed  her  social  intercourse : 
she  was  slightly  deaf.  Perhaps  she  would  have  de- 
clined this  invitation,  had  she  been  fully  aware  of 
the  extent  of  her  deafness.  But  deaf  people  seldom 
attain  that  point  of  self-knowledge.  They  are  con- 
scious of  losing  a  word,  here  and  there;  but  they 
attribute  that  to  the  indistinctness  of  other  people's 
articulation,  rather  than  to  their  own  want  of  ears  to 
hear. 

Roe  had  not  perceived  the  lady's  imperfection  dur- 
ing the  preliminaries  of  presentation,  and  so  forth ; 
and  it  was  only  after  they  were  seated  at  the  table, 
and  he  had  once  or  twice  found  himself  at  cross  pur- 
poses with  Miss  Snob,  that  the  true  state  of  the  case 
burst  upon  him.  And  deafness  wrasn't  quite  the  worst 
of  it.  The  lady  was  free  of  speech,  as  well  as  hard 
of  hearing ;  and  her  inconceivable  replies  to  some  of 
the  questions  or  remarks  spoken  by  Roe  in  a  tone 

10* 


22C  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

more  audible  to  the  other  guests  than  to  the  lady 
herself,  soon  brought  the  banker  into  a  condition  very 
much  resembling  a  butt.  For  the  company  generally 
had  not  discovered  the  lady's  infirmity,  and  they 
could;  at  the  moment,  draw  no  other  conclusion  than 
that  the  spinster  was  deliberately  making  fun  of 
him :  and  that,  too,  in  certain  conventional  terms  of 
western  longitude  that  exaggerated  the  drollery  of 
the  thing,  excessively.  Roe  was  so  much  mystified 
by  the  lady's  slang,  that  he  did  not  at  first  perceive 
the  effect  of  his  conversation  on  others.  The  lady's 
terms  were  new  to  him.  If  they  had  proceeded  from 
an  obscure  person,  he  would  have  considered  them 
vulgar :  but  coming  from  the  sister  of  a  government- 
foreign-Minister-abroad,  the  banker  was  probably 
himself  at  fault.  These  terms,  thought  he,  may  be 
Anglo-Saxon.  He  had  heard  much  in  praise  of  that 
language,  as  being  very  intelligible  and  very  strong ; 
and  certainly,  Miss .  Snob's  remarks  came  fully  up  to 
the  latter  of  those  two  conditions.  Richard  Roe  is 
not  the  only  man  who  hears  or  talks  about  Anglo- 
Saxon,  without  having  one  definite  idea  as  to  what 
Anglo-Saxon  really  is. 

Meantime,  the  minister  himself  was  admirably  di- 
plomatic. Gray  and  others  at  his  end  of  the  table 
were  naturally  anxious  to  know  the  prospective  policy 
of  the  government  touching  the  ivory  question.  But 
the  Honorable  Augustus  Snob  was  as  firm  as  a  rock. 
He  couldn't  reveal  his  instructions.  The  wheels  of 
government  would  soon  creak  on  their  axle-trees  if  its 
confidential  agents  were  to  let  on,  over  their  cham- 
pagne. In  fact,  it  must  be  obvious  to  gentlemen  that 
the  very  object  of  making  instructions  secret,  was  to 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   EOE.  227 

prevent  their  leaking  out.  In  the  judgment  of  Mr. 
Snob,  though  he  frankly  admitted  that  his  diplomatic 
experience  was  limited,  blowing  government  secrets 
was  tantamount  to  imprisoning  treason.  For  his  own 
part,  he  didn't  vally  ivory  :  ivory  was  well  enough  in 
its'place :  useful  for  factory  purposes  and  sich :  but 
not  important  enough  of  itself  to  make  him  disappint 
gentlemen's  curiosity  as  to  the  intentions  of  govern- 
ment. But  he  reckoned  that,  whatever  might  be  the 
vally  of  ivory,  the  vally  of  his  appintment  to  office 
wouldn't  be  tantamount  to  a  chor  of  tobaccer,  if  he 
should  go  to  letting  on. 

Mrs.  Snob  had  once  "been  to"  somebody's  board- 
ing school.  She  fully  approved  this  luminous  expo- 
sition of  the  duties  and  etiqwets  of  a  diplomatic 
foreign  minister  abroad.  Speaking  of  ministers, 
hows'ever,  she  did  hope  that  the  folks  over  in  Afriky 
would  understand  that  minister  had  two  meanings  in 
the  English  language,  and  that  "husband"  was  not 
a  minister  of  the  Gospel. 

Mrs.  Swift  was  clearly  of  opinion  that  Mr.  Snob 
would  not  be  mistaken  for  a  clergyman,  especially  if 
he  always  wore  that  embroidered  coat;  which,  by 
the  way,  was  one  of  the  most  magnificent  coats  that 
she,  Mrs.  Swift,  had  ever  seen. 

This  tribute  to  "husband's"  eminent  diplomatic 
qualifications  quite  took  by  storm  the  heart  of  Mrs. 
Snob ;  and  she  promised,  on  the  spot,  to  send 
Mrs.  Swift  an  ivy  toothprick  from  the  mountains  of 
Sarah. 

In  one  sense,  Gray  had  committed  a  blunder  by 
going  out  of  his  usual  safe  track  and  inviting  this 
western  "  feature"  to  dine.  But  Gray's  luck  was  in 


228  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   KOE. 

the  ascendant.  Gray  and  his  guests  expected  an  in- 
tellectual treat:  they  experienced  a  ludicrous  one. 
For  months  afterward,  that  dinner  party  was  a  stand  • 
ing  joke  in  society.  "  Equal,"  some  thought,  "  to 
Burton's." 

"  It  is  not  much  to  tell  of,"  the  guests  all  agreed  : 
"  but  if  you  had  only  been  there  1" 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

WILSON    SMELLS    A    EAT. 

to  speak  it  profanely,  nor  even  too  positively, 
it  is  altogether  probable  that  if  Tom  had  reported  to 
his  mother  the  alarming  interrogatories  of  Mr.  DOG 
touching  uncle  Sam,  Mrs.  Pinch  would  have  com- 
municated the  same  to  "Wilson,  and  Wilson  might 
have  taken  summary  measures  for  a  change  of  quar- 
ters ;  albeit  he  was  not  prepared  to  change,  and  had 
not  determined  where  he  could,  would,  or  should  go, 
when  he  did  change. 

But  Tom  had  his  own  sufficient  reasons  for  not 
making  a  report  of  his  interview  with  Mr.  Doe.  His 
experience  was,  indeed,  limited.  He  had  seen  com- 
paratively little  of  the  shifts  and  tricks  and  diplomacy 
of  this  tortuous  world.  Yet  the  art  of  his  necessities 
had  taught  him  a  certain  amount  of  prudence,  that 
would  popularly  be  called  "  beyond  his  years  " — 
meaning,  beyond  the  years  of  those  who  had  not 
been  so  early  trained  to  self-dependence.  So  far  as 
Tom's  experience  went,  he  never  knew  any  good  to 
come  of  "  telling  on "  himself :  to  wit,  communi- 
cating the  fact  that  he  had — no  matter  by  what  irre- 
sistible combination  of  unexpected  events — been  led, 
or  induced,  or  surprised,  into  telling  what  he  had 
been  forbidden  to  tell.  He  knew  that  it  was  much 
easier  to  keep  to  himself  the  whole  interview,  than 
to  explain  his  share  of  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  escape 
"  fits  "  at  the  hands  of  his  mother  :  fits  being  Tom's 
pet  antipathy. 


230  JOHK   DOE   AND   RICHAED   ROE. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  going  into  the  particulars  of 
his  brief  interview  with  Mr.  Doe,  Tom  on  his  return 
home,  that  evening,  gave  his  mother  and  sister  a 
"  thrilling  account  "  of  a  poor  woman  who  came  into 
the  slfop  just  at  the  close  of  the  day,  to  buy  lauda- 
num for  a  toothache. 

Mr.  Jones  had  undertaken  the  customer  ;  and,  sus- 
pecting from  her  appearance  and  manner  that  she 
wanted  the  laudanum  rather  for  the  heartache  than 
the  toothache,  he  asked  her  to  let  him  see  the  tooth  ; 
for  he  knew  a  thing  or  two  about  teeth,  and  might 
recommend  a  better  remedy.  The  sufi'erer  couldn't 
well  refuse ;  and,  on  opening  her  mouth,  she  exhi- 
bited such  a  handsome  and  perfect  set  of  ivory,  that 
Jones  saw  the  disease  was  not  in  the  teeth.  The 
woman  attempted  to  point  out  the  tooth,  selecting 
one  as  far  back  and  as  much  out  of  sight  as  might 
be  ;  but  Jones  was  not  to  be  deceived. 

When  the  poor  woman  failed  to  convince  his 
experience,  she  began  to  complain  that  the  gentle- 
man doubted  her  word,  and  would  allow  her  to  suffer 
just  because  he  couldn't  see  the  pain  away  back  in 
her  mouth.  Jones,  however,  assured  her  that  he  had 
seldom  in  his  life  seen  so  perfect  a  set  of  teeth,  and 
that  there  could  be  no  disease,  or  pain,  where  there 
was  no  sign  of  it.  But  at  any  rate,  if  the  pain  was 
there,  he  would  give  her  something,  without  charge, 
much  safer  than  laudanum.  This  proposal  did  not 
meet  the  wishes  of  the  applicant,  and  she  was  going 
away  disappointed,  when  Jones  assumed  a  different 
tone. 

It  was  plain,  he  said,  that  she  wanted  the  lauda- 
num for  some  bad  purpose,  and  that  his  duty  was  to 
prevent  the  execution  of  that  purpose.  Probably 


JOHN   DOE    AND   RICHAED   ROE.  231 

her  intention  was  to  destroy  herself,  and  that  she 
should  not  be  permitted  to  do.  Jones  pressed  her 
so  hard  with  questions  on  the  one  hand  and  kind 
words  on  the  other,  that  she  finally  broke  down,  and 
confessed  that  poverty  and  suffering  had  rendered 
life  insupportable ;  and  that  she  had  resolved  to  make 
way  with  herself  and  her  baby,  which  she  carried  in 
her  arms.  Her  husband  was  a  confirmed  drunkard ; 
he  had  repeatedly  beaten  her  and  threatened  her 
life  ;  he  had  actually,  though  unintentionally,  caused 
the  death  of  an  older  child,  some  weeks  ago,  by  push- 
ing it  against  the  heated  stove ;  and  she  was  now 
reduced  to  utter  despair,  having  been  that  very  after- 
noon driven  out  of  the  house  by  him,  he  pursuing 
her  with  a  hatchet  in  his  hand  and  swearing  he 
would  kill  her. 

The  end  of  Tom's  story  was  that  Mr.  Jones  had 
gone  home  with  the  poor  woman,  handed  her  hus- 
band over  to  the  police,  and  engaged  employment 
and  protection  for  •  her  from  a  benevolent  society 
recently  organized  in  that  quarter  of  the  town. 

There  was  nothing  in  this  story  to  excite  much 
surprise.  But  its  main  point  of  interest  for  the 
Pinches,  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  poor  woman  was  no 
other  than  their  former  fellow-lodger,  the  wife  namely 
of  Rabbit,  who  had  so  unceremoniously  intruded 
upon  uncle  Sam  some  time  ago. 

Mrs.  Pinch  was  doubly  glad  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  story.  Glad  that  Mrs.  Rabbit  was  in  a  way  of 
being  cared  for ;  and  that  that  old  drunken  ruffian, 
her  husband,  was  in  the  hands  of  the  police.  She 
did  hope  that  he  would  swing  for  it. 


232  JOHN   DOE    AND    RICHARD   ROE. 

Wilson  was  in  a  state  of  comfortable  unconscious- 
ness of  the  story  that  Tom  did  not  tell  his  mother : 
to  wit,  the  discovery  by  Mr.  Doe  that  uncle  Sam  was 
in  town.  He  therefore  slept  well,  and  dreamed  bet- 
ter. He  had  got  old  Roe  under  his  thumb  ;  and 
the  morning's  newspaper,  in  reply  to  his  anonymous 
letter,  would  herald  "  something  to  his  advantage." 
What  better  prospects  could  a  man  have  ? 

He  dreamed  of  thick  piles  of  bank-notes,  with  a 
narrow  strip  of  paper  around  the  middle  :  of  rows  of 
bright  yellow  coin,  all  of  a  size  and  so  uniformly  laid 
together  that  it  would  do  any  man's  heart  good  to 
look  at  them :  of  boxes  of  cigars,  and  baskets  of 
champagne  :  of — of — in  short,  anything  you  please, 
and  plenty  of  money  to  pay  for  it,  and  no  law  to 
take  anything  away.  This  was  making  a  good  night 
of  it.  Wilson's  young  remembrance  could  not  paral- 
lel a  fellow  to  it. 

The  first  thing  in  the  morning,  was  the  newspaper. 
It  was  had,  and  held  to  the  fire  to  dry  before  even 
the  lark  was  stirring — a  fact  which  (one  may  men- 
tion parenthetically,  and  while  the  steam  of  the  wet 
paper  is  rising  in  loose  masses  and  floating  around 
the  room)  is  chiefly,  attributable  to  another  fact  that 
the  larks  have  gone  South,  or  somewhere,  to  spend 
the  winter.  Who  can  tell  what  becomes  of  the  old 
larks  ?  and,  for  that  matter,  of  other  old  birds  ?  They 
travel  off  in  the  autumn,  we  know ;  they  return  in 
the  spring,  we  know  ;  and  they  cannot  be  caught 
with  chaff,  we  know.  Moreover,  we  know  that  each 
pair  of  birds  becomes  responsible  for  two  or  three 
more  pairs  of  birds  ;  so  that  the  yearly  census  should 
show  a  uniform  increase  of  four  hundred  per  cent. 
True,  snipe,  woodcock,  plover,  ducks,  brant,  geese, 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  233 

and  other  birds  of  passage  are  shot  by  sportsmen, 
and  their  increase  is  kept  down  by  mortality  :  but 
no  such  obstacle  to  increase  exists  in  the  case  of 
larks,  swallows,  sparrows  and  so  on.  Why,  then, 
do  their  numbers  remain  substantially  the  same  from 
year  to  year?  In  other  words,  what  becomes  of 
the  old  birds  ? 

Answer  the  question  who  may ;  it  is  nothing  to 
Wilson.  His  newspaper  is  now  dry,  and  he  is  look- 
ing out  for  another  sort  of  bird — a  bird  on  whose  tail 
he  yesterday  sprinkled  a  little  fresh  salt. 

"  Ah !"  cried  he,  drawing  a  long  breath  as  he 
caught  sight  of  an  advertisement  responding  to 
"  SLY,"  "  ah — hum  :  he  wants  an  interview,  does  he  ? 
Good  for  you,  old  Truepenny  !  That  looks  like  com- 
ing up  to  the  mark.  The  old  fellow  surrenders  at 
discretion,  and  makes  no  palaver  about  it.  Hum.  1 
am  to  appoint  time  and  place  by  means  of  another 
note  through  the  post.  Good  again  !  Nothing  could 
be  more  proper.  Where  shall  it  be  ?  The  Battery  ? 
Too  far  down.  Central  Park  ?  Too  far  up.  Union 
Square  ?  Too  public.  Madison  Square  ?  Not  re- 
spectable. Egad  !  why  not  at  the  man's  own  house  ? 
He  will  take  good  care  to  make  that  safe.  And  I 
shall  not  take  the  papers  with  me,  to  place  tempta- 
tion in  his  way.  He  must  trust  me,  this  time  !  I'll 
send  him  the  note  and  tell  him — tell  him — what  will 
I  tell  him?  Tell  him  'a  friend'  will  call  at  his 
house  at  eight  o'clock  this  evening.  And — for  fear 
he  should  lay  some  plan  for  taking  me  at  advan- 
tage, I  will  tell  him  in  the  note  that  my  friend  will 
not  take  the  papers ;  he  goes  only  to  negotiate. 
And  by  the  way,  it  may  chance  that  he  will  recog- 


234:  JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHAED    KOE. 

nize  me  as  little  as  other  people.     I'll  be  somebody 
else,  to  begin  with." 


"What  "Wilson  had  lost  in  good  looks  by  means  of 
the  varioloid,  he  gained  in  general  health  ;  and  an 
increased  rotundity  of  person,  consequent  on  his  reco- 
very, cooperating  with  the  disfigurement  of  his  face, 
went  far  toward  rendering  his  recognition  a  matter 
of  impossibility. 

When,  therefore,  he  presented  himself  to  Roe  in  a 
style  of  clothing  entirely  different  from  anything  Roe 
had  ever  seen  him  wear,  also  without  whiskers  and 
his  hair  cropped  short,  Roe  had  not  the  faintest 
notion  who  he  was.  True,  Wilson's  note  informed 
him  that  he  would  be  called  on  by  "  a  friend ;"  but 
Roe  considered  that  as  a  ruse,  not  intended  to  deceive 
him.  He  expected  to  see  Wilson  ;  and  he  was  both 
embarrassed  and  alarmed  at  the  substitution  of  a 
stranger,  and  was  quite  at  a  loss  how  to  address  him. 

But  Wilson  did  not  keep  him  in  doubt  on  that 
point ;  for,  seeing  the  hitch  and  appreciating  it,  he 
commenced  the  conversation. 

."Mr.  Roe,  I  presume?"  said  he," taking  a  chair 
without  waiting  to  be  asked :  and  as  he  had  taken 
the  precaution  to  follow- the  hint  of  Demosthenes  by 
putting  under  his  tongue  a  moderate  sized  filbert, 
his  voice  did  not  betray  his  identity. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Roe,  with  a  look  of  blank  disap- 
pointment which  he  could  not  conceal ;  "  I  thought 
you  were — a " 

"  Mr.  Coon,"  interrupted  Wilson,  coolly  ;  "  I  sent 
my  name  by  the  servant.  I  hope  I  am  not  intruding  ?" 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   KOE.  235 

"  To  an  entire  stranger,"  said  Roe,  "  I  must  remark 
that  that  depends  on  circumstances:  the  nature  of 
your  business,  for  example." 

"  I  have  called,"  returned  Wilson,  "  at  the  request 
of  a  friend,  and  in  conformity  to  a  note  addressed  to 
yourself,  which  note  was  elicited  by  an  advertisement 
in  the  Herald  addressed  to  '  SLY.'  ' 

"To  prevent  any  misapprehension,"  Roe  contin- 
ued, "  let  me  inquire  what  is  the  precise  matter  on 
which  you  came  to  speak  ?" 

"  The  purchase  of  certain  papers,"  replied  Wilson, 
explicitly  and  peremptorily,  for  he  saw  that  Roe  was 
disposed  to  evade  the  issue :  "  certain  papers  which 
were  mislaid  by  accident,  found  by  accident,  and 
supposed  to  be  valuable  to  the  owner." 

"  Do  you  happen  to  have  those  papers  with  you  ?" 
demanded  Roe. 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Wilson.  "  You  were 
informed  by  a  note — which  I  presume  you  received 
— that  they  are  in  safe  hands  and  are  the  subject  of 
a  negotiation." 

"  I  don't  see,"  said  Roe,  who  seemed  to  have  an 
invincible  repugnance  to  committing  himself  with  a 
stranger,  and  who  was  considerably  nettled,  besides, 
that  a  stranger  should  be  there  at  all,  "  I  don't  see 
that  I  can  deal  with  an  unknown  person  on  a  sub- 
ject that  is  itself  quite  unintelligible.  How  do  you 
mean,  by  saying  that  these  papers,  or  whatever  they 
may  be,  are  the  subject  of  a  negotiation  ?" 

"  Negotiation  as  to  price"  said  Wilson,  drily. 

"  Oh,"  replied  Roe,  with  an  air  of  surprised  inno- 
cence ;  '•  the  commodity,  then,  is  for  sale  ?" 

"  It  is  for  sale,  and  for  cash,"  Wilson  continued, 
in  a  tone  intended  to  bring  this  sparring  to  a  conclu- 


236  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

sion  :  "  it  is  for  sale,  as  the  auctioneers  say,  at  private 
sale,  just  now  :  but  if  not  disposed  of  very  soon,  it  will 
be  offered  at  public  sale  to  the  highest  bidder." 

"  And  pray,"  said  Roe,  trying  to  maintain  an  air 
of  indifference  at  this  alarming  collocation  of  words, 
"  what  may  be  the  price  at  private  sale  ?" 

"  Ten  thousand  dollars,"  said  Wilson,  quietly. 

"Ten  thousand  devils!"  was  at  Roe's  tongue's 
end;  but  the  words  were  not  spoken.  Instead  of 
that,  he  said,  with  a  sneer,  "  Ah,  indeed  ?  and  for 
how  long  a  time  does  that  very  reasonable  offer 
remain  open  ?" 

"  At  the  longest,  forty-eight  hours,"  replied  Wilson. 

"  Do  I  understand  that  to  be  your  friend's  lowest 
price  ?"  inquired  Roe,  in  the  same  tone. 

"  The  very  lowest  penny,"  Wilson  said. 

"  Yery  good,"  returned  Roe.  "  The  gentleman 
whose  interest  in  this  matter  I  may  possibly  be  sup- 
posed to  represent — though  I  have  nothing  to  do 
with  it — is  out  of  town.  I  will  see  him  in  the  morn- 
ing. You  may  say  to  the  man  who  sent  you  here 
that  if  he  chooses  to  be  himself,  in  person  and  not 
by  deputy,  at  the  Staten  Island  ferry-house  to-mor- 
row evening  at  nine  o'clock,  with  the  papers  in  his 
possession,  the  gentleman  supposed  to  be  interested 
in  them  will  meet  him  there  and  make  an  end  of  the 
business.  By  the  by,"  he  continued,  moving  toward 
the  door,  as  if  to  terminate  the  interview,  "  the  un- 
derstanding about  the  price  had  better  be  distinct : 
I  understand  you,  that  under  no  circumstances  will 
less  than  ten  thousand  dollars  be  accepted  ?" 

"  Nothing  less  than  ten  thousand  dollars  will  be 
accepted  under  any  possible  circumstances,"  repeated 
Wilson,  rising  to  go. 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHAED   ROE.  237 

"  One  thing  I  forgot,"  said  Roe,  pausing,  as  a  new 
thought  struck  him  :  "  let  your  principal  write  me  a 
note  requesting  my  friend  to  give  him  the  meeting 
at  that  place  and  hour.  The  request  should  come  in 
that  form — do  you  understand  ?" 

"  I  think  I  do,"  replied  Wilson,  in  a  very  equivo- 
cal tone  ;  for  a  new  thought  also  struck  him.  "  I 
think  I  understand  you  perfectly  :  and,"  in  a  mutter- 
ing tone,  not  very  audible,  "  you  will  understand  the 
note  when  you  get  it !" 

So  saying,  Wilson  made  his  way  through  the  hall, 
followed  by  Roe.  Wilson  put  on  his  hat  as  he 
reached  the  door,  and  was  about  to  open  it,  when 
the  light  of  the  chandelier,  falling  full  on  his  back, 
revealed  to  the  astonished  Roe  a  familiar  figure. 

"  Stop  !"  cried  he,  rushing  forward  to  arrest  his 
retiring  visitor  ;  "  are  you " 

Wilson,  startled  at  the  peremptory  tone,  turned 
short  on  his  pursuer  and  presented  to  Roe  the  same 
impossible  face : 

"  Am  I  what  fn  said  he. 

Roe  was  completely  staggered  by  the  instantane- 
ous transition  from  the  familiar  to  the  unknown. 

"  I — I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  he,  fairly  frightened 
into  a  civility  with  which  he  had  not  hitherto  treated 
his  guest ;  "  I  mistook  you  for — a — what's  his  name  ? 
No  matter."  And  he  opened  the  door  for  Wilson, 
remarking,  as  people  are  wont  to  do,  whatever  may 
be  the  actual  state  of  the  weather, 

"  Fine  evening." 

"  Very  !"  replied  Wilson,  "  very  fine  indeed  ;  and 
would  be  even  finer,  if  the  wind  didn't  blow  a  gale 
and  the  rain  didn't  come  down  by  the  barrelful." 

"  What  the  devil  did  the  old  fellow  mean  ?"  Wil 


238  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   EOE. 

son  continued,  as  he  hurried  along,  trying  to  keep 
his  umbrella  over  his  head,  which  the  wind  seemed 
in  no  humor  to  permit.  "  What  could  he  mean  by 
singing  out  in  that  style,  as  if  he  recognized  me  after 
all  ?  But  your  Staten  Island  ferry-house  is  no  go, 
my  old  boy  !  The  rascal  is  desperate.  I  saw  it  in 
his  eye." 

And  he  tramped  on  through  the  rain  and  the  gale, 
very  little  heeding  either ;  for  he  was  studying  out 
Roe's  purpose,  in  wanting,  that  appointment  for  the 
ferry-house  to  come  from  Wilson  himself,  in  his  own 
hand. 

"  He's  as  deep  as  he  is  desperate,"  Wilson  mut- 
tered. "  He  means  to  go  there,  armed :  and,  pre- 
suming on  our  relative  positions,  he  purposes  to 
shoot  or  stab  me,  and  swear  he  did  it  in  self-defence, 
he  having  been  decoyed  there  for  the  purpose  of  being 
attacked  by  me — as  witness  the  note  that  he  wishes 
me  to  write.  It's  well  contrived,  my  old  cock ! 
But  it's  no  go." 

Roe,  on  returning  to  his  fireside,  considered  the 
matter  from  his  point  'of  view. 

"  I  think,"  said  he,  "  I've  done  that  matter  up  ! 
The  fellow  is  a  mere  brigand.  He  would  rob  me 
of  my  reputation  without  the  slightest  scruple  ;  and 
my  character  is  of  more  moment  to  me  than  his 
life  is.  I'll  go  there  armed :  and  if  he  gets  my 
blood  up — and  the  circumstances  favor " 

It's  very  well  to  talk  about  shooting  a  man  when 
one's  blood  is  up,  as  Hoe  says.  But  when  you  come 
to  think  it  over,  and  the  opportunity  seems  to  throw 
itself  in  your  way — why,  then,  as  Hoe  says,  "  that's 
different." 


CHAPTEE  XXVI. 

WILSON     ON     EMIGRATION. 

WILSON  was  not  quite  so  successful  in  dreams  on 
the  night  following,  as  on  the  night  preceding,  his 
interview  with  Richard  Roe.  There  was  in  his  latter 
visions  more  of  iron,  steel  and  lead ;  and  less  of 
piled  coin  and  bundles  of  bank  notes  with  a  narrow 
strip  of  paper  around  the  middle.  And  for  the 
reason,  probably,  that  Roe's  ready  assent  to  an  inter- 
view and  his  assent  to  the  demand  for  ten  thousand 
dollars  did  not  prove  to  be  one  and  the  same  thing. 
The  banker  was  not  so  much  frightened  as  he  should 
have  been.  The  problem,  how  to  get  ten  thousand 
dollars  ?  was  not  yet  solved. 

If  Wilson  stood  on  different  ground :  if  he  could 
but  meet  the  enemy  on  equal  terms:  if  he  had, 
strictly  speaking,  a  fair  chance  at  Roe :  he  might 
make  short  work  of  it.  For  there  was  no  manner 
of  doubt  that  Roe  would  rather  pay  the  amount  de- 
manded, than  suffer  those  papers  to  see  the  light. 
The  embarrassment  of  the  case  in  Wilson's  behalf, 
arose  from  his  inability  to  protect  his  own  flank, 
while  he  was  pitching  into  Roe's  front.  Roe  might 
turn  Wilson's  position  by  the  aid  of  the  police.  Wil- 
son did  not  hold  that  to  be  honorable :  but  what  would 
Roe  care  for  Wilson's  private  opinion. 

If,  now,  Wilson  could  but  assign  this  opportunity 
for  levying  black  mail  to  some  responsible  friend ! 


24:0  JOHN    DOE   AND   KICHARD   KOE. 

Meantime,  other  agencies,  other  interests,  other  in- 
fluences were  at  work.  The  cauldron  was  by  no 
means  quiescent. 

Doe  and  Traverse  had  cogitated  over  the  new  as- 
pect of  their  affairs,  and  had  come  to  a  decision. 
They  were  not  in  fear  of  flank  movements ;  but  they 
preferred  to  hunt  in  couples.  They,  therefore,  set  out 
together  for  a  call  on  Mrs.  Pinch.  Traverse,  by  ar- 
rangement, remained  off  and  on  in  front  of  the  house, 
while  Doe  made  his  visit  to  the  widow. 

The  widow  was  at  home,  at  leisure,  in  very  good 
health,  and  very  glad  to  see  Mr.  Doe,  to  whom  she 
owed  so  much  respect  and  gratitude.  Gratitude  is  a" 
common  debt  in  this  world.  Thousands  of  people  hon- 
estly owe  it.  But  to  find  one  who  honestly  pays  it, 
is,  as  the  poet  says,  to  find  one  man  picked  out  of 
ten  thousand.  Mrs.  Pinch  was  one  of  the  exceptional 
instances. 

The  customary  inquiries  and  replies  continued. 
Phebe  was  very  well,  and  very  happy,  and  making 
great  progress  toward  the  sewing-machine.  (No  re- 
ference, as  yet,  to  Mr.  Jones.)  Tom  was  growing 
fast  in  stature  and  in  the  favor  of  his  employer.  His 
fortune  was  as  good  as  made — all  it  wanted  was  time 
to  grow.  How  could  she  ever  thank  Mr.  Doe  enough, 
and  be  grateful  enough,  Mrs.  Pinch  had  not  been 
able  to  discover. 

Mr.  Doe,  in  turn,  was  glad  to  have  been  instru- 
mental in  relieving  so  much  want  and  in  conferring 
so  much  substantial  benefit.  It  is  easy  to  help 
people ;  but  not  always  easy  to  find  people  worthy 
of  being  helped,  and  who  would  afterward  help 
themselves  so  effectually  as  the  Pinches  had  done. 

And  by  the  way,  Mr.  Doe  would  mention  another 


JOHN    DOE    AND   RICHARD    ROE.  241 

thing  before  he  forgot  it.  Doctor  Jenkins  had  re- 
marked that  Mrs.  Pinch's  uncle  had  such  a  hard  time 
with  the  varioloid.  He,  Mr.  Doe,  took  quite  an  inte- 
rest in  the  uncle,  owing  to  what  doctor  Jenkins  had 
said  of  him.  He  would  like  to  see  him.  In  fact,  he 
had  called  for  that  purpose. 

This  was  the  first  time  that  any  outside  person  had 
made  reference  to  uncle  Sam ;  and  Mrs.  Pinch  was 
overwhelmed  with  terror  at  such  a  totally  unex- 
pected application.  She  was  painfully  at  a  loss  what 
to  do,  or  say.  Denial  was  hopeless  when  the,  fact 
was  stated  so  simply,  clearly,  and  on  such  indisputa- 
ble authority. 

Eh — she  did  not  know — a — whether  he  had  stepped 
out ;  or  was  busy ;  or  what.  She  would  see.  But 
Doe  saw  that  her  attempting  to  "  see,"  or  her  having 
any  communication  with  her  uncle  in  her  present 
embarrassed  state,  would  defeat  Doe's  plan,  at  any 
rate.  He,  therefore,  stopped  her  short  in  her  peri- 
phrasis, by  saying, 

"  Mrs.  Pinch,  you  need  not  fear  that  I  shall  do  an 
injury  to  the  man.  I  wish  only  to  get  from  him  in- 
formation about  another  man.  Let  me  see  him  without 
a  word  of  announcement  or  preparation ;  and,  you 
may  take  my  word  for  it,  you  shall  have  no  occa- 
sion to  reproach  yourself,  and  no  fear  of  his  re- 
proach." 

This,  spoken  decidedly,  and  coming  from  one  who 
so  entirely  commanded  the  respect  and  confidence 
of  Mrs.  Pinch,  admitted  of  no  evasion,  and  the 
widow,  therefore,  led  the  way  up  stairs,  cautioning 
Mr.  Doe  to  "  go  easy  "  on  the  steps,  as  otherwise  her 
uncle  might  take  alarm  at  his  approach.  Conse- 
quently, while  Wilson  was  sitting  at  his  table  with 
11 


242  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

his  face  toward  the  window,  writing  his  rejoinder  to 
Roe's  advertisement,  Mrs.  Pinch  softly  opened  the 
door,  admitted  Mr.  Doe,  and  closed  it  again,  before 
Wilson  was  conscious  that  any  one  had  entered  the 
room.  As  he  then  turned  his  head  carelessly  over 
his  shoulder,  without  any  definite  motive,  his  eye 
caught  the  erect  figure  of  Doe ;  and  he  sprang  to  his 
feet,  ready  for  attack,  defence,  or  flight,  according  to 
circumstances. 

But  Doe,  with  a  cautionary  movement  of  his  fore- 
finger and  a  peremptory  "  hush !  no  noise !"  brought 
Wilson  to  a  stand-still,  while  Doe  continued, 

"  Be  quiet.  I  know  you.  Make  no  disturbance, 
or  you  will  fare  the  worse." 

"  What  do  you  want  with  me  ?"  demanded  Wilson, 
in  a  gruff  yet  tremulous  tone. 

"  Information,"  replied  Doe,  briefly.  "  Sit  down 
and  hear  what  I  have  to  say.  It  is  your  safest 
course." 

And,  as  Doe  seated  himself  with  an  air  of  quiet 
dermination,  Wilson  almost  involuntarily  followed 
the  example. 

"  You  are  of  course  aware  who  I  am,"  Doe  con- 
tinued ;  "  and  I  know  perfectly  well  who  you  are. 
But,  if  you  prove  tractable,  I  shall  not  be  your 
enemy.  I  want  information  about  Richard  Roe 
which  I  know  you  possess,  and  which  would  be  of 
service  to  me  as  the  representative  of  my  sister,  Mrs. 
Peters." 

Wilson,  in  the  course  of  his  travels  through  life, 
had  acquired  a  faculty  of  rapid  thinking ;  and,  withal, 
a  facility  in  the  rapid  solution  of  knotty  points. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  this  application  of  Mr.  Doe 
was  exceedingly  well-timed.  Wilson  had  just  been 


JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  243 

thinking  how  much  stronger  his  -hold  on  Roe  would 
be,  if  he  could  get  another  man's  hand  on  the  rope. 
In  the  second  place,  here  was  another  man,  who  had 
an  unexpected  hold  on  him,  "Wilson,  by  the  posses- 
sion of  his  secret ;  and  over  this  new-comer  he  could 
have  no  control  or  advantage,  except  as  he  could 
make  terms  with  him.  Here  were  fortune  and  mis- 
fortune in  pretty  nearly  equal  proportions :  but  while 
the  expediencies  of  the  emergency  were  doubtful,  one 
thing  was  certain ;  namely,  that  half  a  loaf  is  better 
than  no  bread. 

All  this  ran  through  the  mind  of  "Wilson  with 
great  velocity,  so  that  only  a  brief  space  of  material 
time  had  elapsed  when  he  said,  in  reply  to  Doe's 
suggestion : 

"  The  papers  referred  to  Mrs.  Peters's  affairs  ;  but 
the  proof  could  be  had  only  in  Hoe's  books  and  in  his, 
Wilson's,  remembrance  of  the  transactions." 

Doe  had  not  spoken  of  "  papers,"~and  knew  nothing 
of  them.  But  he  had  in  mind  what  doctor  Jenkins 
had  quoted  from  "Wilson  on  that  subject,  and  he, 
therefore,  rejoined  at  a  hazard : 

u  You  mean  the  papers  that  were  forgotten  ?" 
emphasizing  the  word  in  a  way  to  make  "Wilson  sup- 
pose he  knew  all  about  them. 

"  Yes,  in  his  coat  pocket,"  replied  "Wilson,  begin- 
ning to  laugh  at  the  joke  :  "but,"  he  added,  checking 
his  laugh  at  the  thought  that  he  was  unnecessarily 
betraying  what  could  be  known  only  to  Roe  and  him- 
self, "  what  do  you  know  of  the  papers  ?" 

"  If,"  said  Doe,  "  I  know  that  lie  forgot  them  and 
you  got  them,  I  probably  know  enough." 

"Wilson,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  was  very  mucli 
startled  at  this  amount  of  knowledge  on  the  part  of 


244  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

Doe  ;  and  he  was  greatly  embarrassed  by  not  know- 
ing just  how  far  Doe's  knowledge  extended.  If  he 
but  knew  that,  he  could  play  his  hand  accordingly  1 
But  he  had  no  time  to  deliberate.  By  telling  Mr. 
Doe  the  truth,  and  the  whole  truth,  he  would  avoid 
quicksands,  place  himself  on  safe  ground,  and  secure 
the  best  bargain  for  himself  that  the  circumstances 
permitted.  In  short,  he  must  make  a  merit  of 
necessity. 

Meantime,  Doe,  unaware  of  the  favorable  turn  that 
Wilson's  deliberations  were  taking,  and  apprehensive 
that  if  he  gave  his  man  too  much  space  for  thinking, 
new  obstacles  might  arise — put  in  a  supplementary 
interrogatory : 

"  Have  you  the  papers  here  ?"  said  he. 

"Wilson  was  afraid  to  say  "  no,"  because  he  had 
just  made  up  his  mind  to  plunge  into  the  direct 
negotiation  and  make  the  most  of  it.  Therefore  he 
said,  "  yes." 

"  Then,"  replied  Doe,  settling  himself  in  his  chair 
and  preparing  for  an  exposition  which,  if  it  proved  to 
be  long,  would  also  be  final,  "  I  will  come  to  the 
point  with  you.  I  have  not  called  here  to  offer  you 
money  and  the  means  of  escape,  in  exchange  for  those 
papers.  I  will  not  so  far  compromise  myself.  But 
don't  be  alarmed  !  If  I  can  obtain  from  you  what  I 
seek,  I  will  endeavor  to  save  you  from  the  conse- 
quences of  your  crime.  That  forgery  was  a  deliberate 
and  completed  felony ;  but  its  actual  result  to  the 
parties  you  defrauded  was  rendered  insignificant  by 
your  prompt  detection  and  your  restoration  of  the 
money.  And,  so  far  as  I  know,  that  was  your  first 
crime.  You  are  a  capable  business  man,  and  I  want 
just  such  a  man  in  my  branch  office  in  New  Orleans, 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  245 

where  you  would  be  safe  from  recognition.  If  you 
choose  to  take  the  chief  book-keeper's  desk  in  that 
office,  and  honestly  devote  yourself  to  my  interests 
there,  you  shall  receive  a  liberal  salary  and  be  in  the 
way  of  redeeming  your  future  life.  One  thing,  how- 
ever, on  that  point  must  be  explicitly  understood  : 
that  if  you  are  guilty  there  of  the  slightest  variation 
from  a  direct  and  honest  course,  I  will  exert  myself 
to  place  you  in  the  hands  of  the  officers  of  the  law, 
and  leave  you  to  suffer  its  full  penalty.  My  object 
is  to  secure  to  myself  the  advantages  of  those  papers, 
and  to  give  you  one  opportunity  to  reform.  If  you 
wish  time  to  consider  this  proposition,  I  will  wait 
here  for  fifteen  minutes,  and  no  longer." 

"  Sir,"  said  Wilson,  rising  with  great  respect,  and 
so  nearly  overcome  by  feelings  of  grateful  surprise, 
that  he  could  hardly  articulate  the  words  of  his 
reply,  "  I  accept  your  proposal  at  once,  fully  and 
unreservedly.  And  if  I  do  not  now  enlarge  on  my 
deep  sense  of  your  kindness,  it  is  only  because  I 
prefer  to  let  my  future  conduct  speak  in  more  con- 
vincing terms.  The  opportunity  you  give  me,  is 
equally  unexpected  and  undeserved.  May  God  bless 
you,  sir !" 

"  I  presume,"  said  Doe,  not  wishing  to  prolong  the 
interview,  "that  you  can  make  arrangements  to  leave 
New- York  to-morrow  ?" 

Wilson  assented. 

"  Then,"  continued  Doe,  "  come  to  my  house  this 
evening  and  finish  what  remains  between  us.  You 
may  as  well  give  me  those  papers,  now." 

And  Doe  withdrew  with  the  mysterious  and  weighty 
documents  in  his  pocket. 

When  Wilson  was  left  to  himself,  he  looked  about 


246  JOHN. DOE    AND    RICHARD    ROE. 

the  room,  as  if  to  prepare  for  taking  leave  of  the 
inanimate  objects  to  which  he  had  become  attached. 
Presently,  his  eye  rested  on  the  letter  to  Roe  that  he 
had  finished  just  as  Doe  came  in. 

"  In  my  present  mood,"  said  he,  reading  over  the 
missive,  "  I  would  not  write  exactly  such  a  letter  as 
that :  but  as  it  is  written,  it  shall  go— with  a  post- 
script, however  ;"  which  he  added,  in  these  words : 

"  The  bird  has  flown.  Look  out  for  his  successor  /" 

He  next  called  up  Mrs.  Pinch,  who  had  suffered 
the  most  intense  anxiety  during  his  interview  with 
Mr.  Doe. 

She  was  greatly  relieved  to  learn  that  no  harm  was 
done,  and  not  a  little  surprised  that  Wilson  was  about 
to  take  a  final  departure  from  his  lodgings  on  the  fol- 
lowing day.  Nevertheless,  since  the  change  was  con- 
sidered by  Wilson  to  be  not  only  safe,  but  very 
propitious,  she  cheerfully  prepared  to  speed  the  part- 
ing guest. 


CHAPTER  XXVH. 

BOB'S     PROFITS     AND     LOSSES. 

MATTERS  and  things,  down  town,  had  gone  well 
witli  Richard  Hoe,  at  the  very  time  when  his  inte- 
rests were  prospering  so  indifferently  in  other  locali- 
ties. He  had  sold  out,  videlicet  bought  in,  sundry 
collateral  securities  at  half  market-price,  which 
securities  had  been  pledged  on  loans,  after  the  man- 
ner of  the  loan  to  Mr.  Hicks.  Again,  he  had  gone 
over  his  old  ground  of  selling  bonds  .belonging  to 
himself,  but  which  were  likely  to  become  worthless 
— "  sparing"  them  at  about  ninety  per  cent,  to  some 
of  his  best  friends,  who,  strange  to  say,  after  having 
been  "bit"  by  him  half  a  dozen  times  in  precisely 
the  same  way,  were  still  on  the  lookout  for  something 
nice  and  snug  on  bottom  principles,  to  make  up  for 
former  losses.  This  was  like  the  old  sheep's  going  to 
the  wolf  to  get  her  back  scratched. 

Consequently,  although  the  impendent  interview 
with  Wilson,  with  all  its  hazards  and  chances,  was 
pressing  on  the  mind  of  Roe,  he  found  himself,  about 
three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  in  very  good  case  and 
humor. 

He  would  by  and  by  think  about  the  ferry-house 
and  the  Battery.  The  future  must  take  care  of  itself. 
Sufficient  unto  the  hour,  was  the  good  or  evil.  He 
wasn't  quite  certain  about  that  pistol :  yet,  he  would 
have  it  ready.  Was  it  to  be  endured  that  he,  with 


247 


248  JOHN    DOE    AND    KICHARD    ROE. 

this  flowing  tide  of  prosperity  about  him,  (profits 
that  day,  some  thousands,)  should  be  held  in  terror, 
in  hourly  dread  of  a  felon,  who  was  outside  of  the 
state-prison  only  by  reason  of  Roe's  forbearance  ? 

Just  at  that  moment,  in  came  Wilson's  letter. 

Roe  turned  pale  as  he  read  it.  "What !  a  tone  of 
banter,  defiance,  threatening?  and  insisting  on  a 
meeting  not  at  the  ferry-house,  but  at  Roe's  own 
house !  and  the  hard  cash  ready  on  the  nail,  or  not — 
just  as  Roe  d .  pleased !  And,  finally,  a  post- 
script more  alarming  than  all  the  rest. 

This  was  an  appalling  condition  of  things.  Instead 
of  Wilson's  being  under  Roe's  control,  Roe  was  at 
Wilson's  mercy.  Could  it  be  true  about  a  "  suc- 
cessor ?"  Had  Wilson  really  put  himself  out  of  Roe's 
reach,  and  left  those  infernal  papers  in  the  hands  of 
a  third  party,  perhaps  as  great  a  rascal  and  a  more 
capable  villain?  Roe's  large  profits  for  the  day, 
which  had  so  recently  been  chuckled  over,  offered 
but  a  small  consolatory  offset  to  that  cursed  letter. 

Roe  went  home  in  a  bad  humor  with  himself  and 
everybody  else,  notwithstanding  his  large  profits  for 
the  day.  He  dined  morosely,  drank  freely,  and  was 
as  agreeable  as  could  be  expected. 

Early  in  the  evening,  he  went  out  to  a  church  lec- 
ture :  not  at  Doctor  Perkins's  church,  for  it  wasn't 
his  night.  Had  it  been  his  night,  no  consideration  or 
temptation  could  have  swerved  the  feet  of  Richard 
Roe  elsewhere.  !N"o.  The  lecture  was  over,  down, 
roundabout,  somewhere.  And  somewhere  it  proved 
to  be.  For  instead  of  going  to  Doctor  White's,  or  Doc- 
tor Anybody's  lecture,  he  lost  his  way.  He  missed 
the  turn  of  the  street ;  went  left  when  he  should  have 
gone  right ;  and  was  at  last  observed  by  Snap  to  call 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICIIARD   ROE.  249 

at  a  certain  house  where  Snap  had  seen  him  call 
several  times  previously.  This  time,  Snap  had  his 
cue  :  and  after  waiting  awhile,  he  followed  Hoe's  foot- 
steps into  the  same  house. 

He  found  the  parlors  vacant  as  to  persons,  but 
comfortably  furnished.  He  sat  awhile,  waiting  for 
some  one  to  appear.  Nobody  came.  He  inspected 
the  rooms  with  some  care.  He  found  an  overcoat 
and  hat  lying  on  a  sofa,  which  two  articles  were  in- 
dubitably the  property  of  Richard  Roe.  He  exam- 
ined the  hat,  found  it  to  be  one  of  Beebee's,  nearly 
new,  with  R.  R.  written  with  a  pen  on  the  leather — 
probably  in  Roe's  own  handwriting.  He  made  some 
mental  resolution  about  compensating  Roe  for  the 
loss  of  his  hat,  and  took  his  departure,  carrying  the 
hat  in  his  hand. 


The  parlor  clock  at  Roe's  house  was  out  of  order. 
It  had  run  down.  And  that  is  the  reason  why  Philip 
couldn't  take  his  corporal  oath  what  was  the  precise 
hour  and  minute  when  Mr.  Roe  returned  home,  that 
evening.  Philip,  however,  would  qualify  to  one 
thing :  namely,  that  when  his  master  came  home,  he 
had  no  hat  on  his  head,  but  a  handkerchief  tied  over 
it,  to  keep  off  the  cold. 

The  reason  for  a  tiling  so  unusual,  was  that  Mr. 
Roe,  while  crossing  Broadway,  was  caught  in  a  gust 
of  wind  that  blew  his  hat  off,  and  whisked  it  into  the 
middle  of  the  street.  Before  he  could  recover  it,  an 
omnibus,  preceded  by  a  pair  of  horses,  had  travelled 
slap  over  it,  trampling  it  into  the  mud,  crushing  it 
out  of  shape,  and  rendering  it  so  totally  unavailable 
for  the  further  use  and  behoof  of  Richard  Roe,  that 
11* 


250  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   ROE. 

he  made  a  present  of  it  to  the  boy  who  picked  it  up, 
and  gave  him  sixpence  besides  to  compensate  the  lad 
for  his  hard  bargain.  It  was  a  ridiculous  affair  and 
five  dollars'  worth  of  pities ;  but  Roe  had  gained  large 
profits  in  regular  business,  that  day ;  and  what  was 
five  dollars?  All  trades  must  live.  So  much  the 
better  for  Beebee. 


Several  things  took  place  on  the  same  evening. 

Wilson  called  on  Mr.  Doe ;  and  received  a  new 
name  and  his  despatches,  with  the  best  wishes  of  his 
new  patron.  He  moreover  left  with  Mr.  Doe  a 
memorandum  of  certain  things  done  by  Roe  in  the 
matter  of  Peters's  accounts;  accompanied  by  refe- 
rences to  Roe's  books,  which  books,  if  they  could  be 
found,  would  show  altered  and  transposed  entries  and 
all  sorts  of  suspicious  and  equivocal  records.  In  short, 
not  to  particularize  items  that  would  be  unintelligible 
in  the  absence  of  the  documents,  "Wilson  and  Doe  did 
a  large  amount  of  business  up  town,  as  Roe  had  done 
down  town ;  although  the  realized  and  pocketed  pro- 
fit of  the  former  was  much  less  than  that  of  the  latter, 
for  the  time  being.  Perhaps  in  the  long  run,  the 
proportions  of  gain  would  be  reversed,  by  the  change 
of  a  cipher  or  two  on  the  right  side  of  the  decimal. 

One  thing  yet  remained  between  Doe  and  Wilson : 
a  clearing  up,  namely,  of  the  chloroform  mystery. 
That  is  to  say,  a  full  account  of  Wilson's  escape  from 
the  Tombs,  and  of  Roe's  agency  in  it. 

Wilson  went  over  the  story  minutely,  and  Doe  was 
thunderstruck.  He  lacked  words  to  express  his 
astonishment  at  Roe's  audacity.  The  risk  the  man 
had  taken  of  being  discovered,  exposed,  disgraced 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHABD   ROE.  251 

for  originating  and  completing  such  a  bold  violation 
of  the  law,  was,  to  Doe's  apprehension,  inconceivable. 
But  he  kept  these  sentiments  to  himself. 

No  sooner  had  Wilson  made  an  end  of  his  business 
and  departed,  than  Snap  came  into  Doe's  parlor  with 
a  hat  in  each  hand.  Doe  did  not  know  what  any 
man  wanted,  or  could  do,  with  two  hats :  but  Snap 
asked  him  to  examine  one  of  the  two  which  he  held 
out.  Doe  saw  nothing  remarkable  about  the  hat. 
It  was  one  of  Beebee's,  nearly  new,  and  seemed  to 
have  initials — R.  R. 

"  Why,  Snap,"  said  Doe,  "  this  must  be  Roe's  hat. 
How  came  you  by  it  ?  What  does  this  mean  ?" 

In  Snap's  humble  opinion,  it  meant  mischief.  That 
hat,  not  long  ago,  was  lying  on  a  sofa  in  a  house, 
number  so  and  so,  whence  Snap  had  just  now  brought 
it  away ;  and,  as  he  intended,  within  a  day  or  two, 
to  enclose  a  five  dollar  bill  to  Mr.  Roe,  anonymously, 
through  the  Post-Office,  he  supposed  the  tort  would 
not  be  actionable.  But  what  Richard  Roe  had  to  do 
in  that  house  and  on  such  terms  of  intimacy  as  to 
leave  his  hat  and  overcoat  in  the  parlor  without 
being  there  himself  to  look  after  them,  perhaps  Mr. 
Doe  could  judge  as  well  as  this  deponent. 

"  Snap,"  said  Doe,  "  it  was  my  intention  to  advise 
the  abandonment  of  that  chase,  but  you  have  been 
too  quick  for  me.  Since  you  have  made  the  dis- 
covery, however,  I  will  consider  how  far  to  use  it." 

Doe  then  informed  Snap  that  he  might  discontinue 
his  professional  services  for  the  present :  and  in  view 
of  all  that  had  been  accomplished,  he  would  pay 
Snap  the  second  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 
Whereupon  Snap  departed  well  satisfied.  Snap  had 
in  fact  accomplished  more  than  he  was  aware  of:  but 


252  JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHARD   KOE. 

Doe  saw  no  necessity  for  telling  him  so ;  payment 
for  it,  was  a  sufficing  acknowledgment. 

"Traverse,"  said  Doe  to  his  young  legal  friend, 
who  had  come  in  during  the  interview  with  Snap, 
"  to-morrow  morning  Roe  will  go  to  Beebee's  for  a 
new  hat.  I  propose  that  one  of  us  shall  call  there 
early  to-morrow,  on  any  pretext,  and  wait  for  Roe  to 
make  his  appearance.  It  will  be  worth  all  the  time 
lost,  to  hear  from  himself  the  explanation  of  the  loss 
of  his  hat." 


The  next  morning,  Traverse  walked  into  Beebee's 
establishment,  and  took  a  seat  with  his  back  toward 
the  door,  to  read  some  letters  just  obtained  at  the 
Post-Office.  He  was  waiting,  he  said,  for  a  gentle- 
man. 

He  had  not  to  wait  long.  Roe  came  down  town 
ahead  of  time,  for  reasons  best  known  to  himself. 

"  Good  mor — ning,  Mr.  Beebee,"  said  Roe,  striding 
bareheaded  into  the  place  with  unwonted  formality, 
making  a  low  bow,  and  speaking  with  the  drawl  and 
the  flourish  which  he  always  assumed,  when  he  felt 
either  very  fine  or  very  flat :  "  I  would  take  off  my 
hat  to  you,  Sir  ;  but  the  fact  is,  the  wind  took  it  off 
for  me,  last  evening." 

"  Ah,  indeed  !"  replied  the  hat-merchant  with  his 
well-known  urbanity,  and  smiling  at  Roe's  joke  on 
trust,  for  he  had  not  yet  seen  the  force  of  it :  "  how's 
that,  Mr.  Roe  2" 

"  Well,"  answered  Roe,  "  it  isn't  much  of  a  story, 
and  I  suppose  such  a  thing  may  happen  to  any  man 
when  the  wind  blows.  I  was  going  home  last  nighv 
from  Doctor  White's  lecture ;  and  while  crossing 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  253 

Broadway,  I  was  caught  in  a  gust  of  wind  that  blew 
my  hat  off  and  whisked  it  into  the  middle  of  the 
street.  Before  1  could  make  a  movement,  an  omni- 
bus and  horses  had  travelled  slap  over  it,  crushing  it 
out  of  shape  and  rendering  it  so  totally  unavailable 
for  my  further  use,  that  I  gave  it  to  the  boy  who 
picked  it  up  ;  and,  as  he  had  a  hard  bargain  at  that, 
I  gave  him  sixpence  to  boot." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !"  said  Beebee. 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !"  said  Eoe. 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !"  said  the  partners  and  clerks,  who 
had  crowded  around  to  hear  the  story. 

"  Ha !  ha  !  ha !"  said  Traverse — only  Traverse  said 
it  in  his  sleeve. 

"While  the  hatter  was  seeking  a  substitute  for  Roe's 
loss,  Roe  couldn't  "  let  well  alone."  He  kept  on 
talking. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  one  of  Doctor  White's  lec- 
tures, Mr.  Beebee  2"  he  inquired. 

Mr.  Beebee  had  not  heard  the  Doctor. 

"  He  is  worth  hearing,  I  assure  you,"  Roe  con- 
tinued. "  ISTot,  of  course,  equal  to  Doctor  Perkins  ; 
and  then,  he  is  not  orthodox  on  the  '  infernal  Institu- 
tion.' But  a  man  of  great  power ;  great  power ; 
very  great  power." 

"  Do  you  speak  of  Doctor  White  of  Saint  Domi- 
nick's,  Mr.  Roe  ?"  inquired  one  of  the  bystanders. 

"Of  Doctor  White,  of  Saint  Dominick's,"  Roe 
repeated,  sententiously  and  pompously. 

"  And  of  his  lecture  last  evening  ?"  pursued  his 
interrogator. 

"  Of  his  lecture  last  evening,"  was  Roe's  echoing 
response.  "  Were  you  there  ?" 

"  I  was  there,"  the  shopman  replied,  "  but  Doctor 


254  JOHN    DOE   AND   EICHARD    ROE. 

White  was  not  there,  nor  was  any  service  held  there. 
The  Doctor  met  with  a  serious  accident  yesterday 
and  was  unable  to  preach." 

"  You  misunderstand  me,"  said  Hoe,  resorting  at 
once  to  his  old  dodge  :  he  was  always  "  misunder- 
stood "  the  moment  he  was  cornered.  "  I  spoke  of 
Doctor  Campbell. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  replied  the  complaisant 
shopman  ;  "  I  thought  you  said  Doctor  White." 

"  I  couldn't  well  have  done  that,"  answered  Roe, 
attempting  his  persuasive  smile,  but  the  big  upper- 
lip  refused  to  participate :  "  I  couldn't  well  have 
done  that,  as  I  never  heard  Doctor  White  preach." 

Certainly.  Of  course.  And  again  the  shopman 
man  apologized  for  misunderstanding  Mr.  Roe. 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !"  said  Traverse — only  he  said  it 
in  his  sleeve. 


CHAPTER  XXYIH. 
RABBIT'S  PROFTS  AND  LOSSES. 

THE  boldness  and  extent  of  the  jewel-robbery 
created  a  great  excitement  about  the  town.  The 
amount  of  property  stolen  was  estimated  by  the 
owners  at  forty  thousand  dollars;  the  selection 
having  been  made  as  skilfully,  the  proprietors  said, 
as  they  could  have  made  it  themselves.  And,  con- 
sidering the  facility  with  which  the  thieves  perpe- 
trated the  crime  and  made  their  escape,  a  feeling  of 
alarm  spread  itself  through  the  whole  class  of  trades- 
people. Nothing  was  secure  against  the  depredations 
of  such  audacious  villians. 

Large  rewards  were  offered  by  the  owners  and  by 
the  city  authorities  for  the  detection  of  the  criminals ; 
and  additionally  to  the  varieties  of  apprehension 
created  by  the  incident,  a  general  spite  against  the 
rascals,  and  a  desire  to  see  them  properly  punished, 
seemed  to  pervade  the  community. 

This  unusual  excitement  was  natural  and  com- 
mendable, as  among  the  citizens  generally ;  but  some 
ill-natured  people  were  surprised  at  the  action  of  the 
Common  Council.  "  A  set  of  men,"  said  the  cavil- 
lers, "  who,  without  exceptions  enough  to  prove  a 
rule,  are  the  most  audacious  and  ravenous  robbers  on 
the  face  of  the  earth.  And  those  that  make  them 
are  like  unto  them :  that  is  to  say,  those  of  their 
constituents  who  get  office  under  them,  steal  as  fast 

865 


256  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   EOE. 

and  as  ravenously  as  they.  Why  should  the  mem- 
bers of  such  a  corporation  make  a  spasmodic  effort 
to  catch  better  men  than  themselves— men  who  have 
the  boldness  to  steal  in  open  violation  of  the  law, 
while  these  sneaking  scoundrels  do  the  same  thing 
under  cover  of  the  law  ?" 

John  Doe  thought  the  action  of  the  Common  Coun- 
cil was  the  result  of  mere  envy  and  jealousy.  They 
claim,  ex  qffioio,  either  per  se  or  per  alium,  to  do  all 
the  stealing  within  the  city  limits.  They  are  elected 
for  that  purpose  and  with  that  understanding.  How 
can  a  corporation,  so  constituted,  submit  to  have  their 
dirty  work  taken  out  of  their  own  hands,  and  per- 
formed by  low-bred,  unprincipled  ruffians. 

Mr.  Gray  thought,  rather,  that  the  City  Fathers 
were  desirous  to  make  a  show  of  their  indignant 
virtue,  of  their  abhorrence  of  crime,  of  their  cham- 
pionship of  honesty:  and,  by  such  demonstration, 
to  silence  the  popular  clamor  against  themselves. 
They  wished  to  make  an  ostentatious  display  of  their 
devotion  to  the  public  good — which  good,  however, 
they  never  by  any  chance  promoted. 

Richard  Roe  was  more  charitable.  He  disliked 
this  readiness  to  dive  into  people's  motives.  Outward 
actions  men  can  judge  of;  but  God  alone  sees  the 
heart.  There  are  bad  men  everywhere :  there  might 
even  be  some  in  the  church  of  Christ.  But  wholesale 
denunciations  don't  make  them  better.  It's  very 
easy  for  gentlemen  to  talk.  It  is  easy  for  some  men 
to  speak  evil  of  dignities.  Richard  preferred  the 
example  of  Saint  Paul. 

Nevertheless,  and  in  the  meantime,  the  robbers 
seemed  to  have  it  all  their  own  way.  JSTo  traces  of 
them  could  be  found.  The  police  had  inducement 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  257 

enough,  to  ferret  them  out,  surely.  First,  here  was  a 
good  opportunity  to  vindicate  their  professional 
credit  as  a  police,  which  was  just  now  running  very 
low.  A  long  time  had  elapsed  since  they  had  been 
known  to  do  anything  but  help  ladies  through  the 
omnibus-labyrinth  of  Broadway.  And,  secondly, 
and  principally,  the  sum  of  money  to  be  gained  by 
catching  these  chaps  was  an  irresistible  temptation 
to  vigilance  and  activity.  The  chances  were, 
therefore,  that  the  police,  this  time,  would  do  all  they 
could. 

But  mere  human  policemen  cannot  perform  impos- 
sibilities. For  example,  they  could  not  find  Spring, 
because  Spring,  by  long  practice,  had  found  a  way 
of  taking  a  fast  train  to  Quebec,  where  he  had  a 
resident  sister,  with  whom  he  had  often  before 
sojourned  under  the  same  comfortable  circumstances 
as  he  at  present  enjoyed :  a  situation,  indeed,  not 
unlike  Wilson's  residence  witli  the  Pinches,  except 
that  the  sister  of  Spring  was  better-to-do  than  Mrs. 
Pinch. 

Then,  as  to  Rabbit.  Rabbit  had  no  friend  in  Que- 
bec and  no  facility  for  getting  there ;  but  he  needed 
neither.  He  was  in  the  disguise  of  a  gentleman 
when  he  performed  his  part  of  the  play,  and  the  mo- 
ment he  returned  to  his  old  clothes,  his  old  haunts, 
and  his  old  vocations,  he  was  as  much  out  of  the  way 
of  identification  as  if  he  had  flown  to  the  moon.  He 
was,  moreover,  well  aware  of  this :  partly  because 
Spring  had  told  him  so,  at  the  commencement  of  his 
apprenticeship,  and  partly  because  his  initiatory 
practice  had  proved  it  to  be  true.  In  fact,  all  that 
Rabbit  needed  as  a  condition  of  safety,  was  to  keep 
quiet  and  mind  his  own  business.  He  had  cash  in 


258  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHARD   ROE. 

hand  for  all  present  emergencies ;  and,  in  due  time, 
by  removing  a  small  diamond  from  its  setting  and 
putting  the  jewel  up  somebody's  spout,  he  could  re- 
plenish the  sub-treasury :  and  so  on,  to  the  end  of  the 
pile.  Masterly  inactivity  was,  therefore,  the  sole  and 
easy  duty  of  Mr.  Rabbit. 

Unfortunately  for  him,  his  previously  confirmed 
habits  of  intemperance  and  his  coincident  brutal 
treatment  of  his  family,  rendered  his  purchased  wis- 
dom unavailable ;  and,  as  has  already  been  stated, 
he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  police  on  these  last 
mentioned  grounds,  and  through  the  agency  of  Mr. 
Jones. 

Even  under  that  arrest,  he  might  have  escaped 
any  other  penalty  than  what  attached  to  the  assault 
on  his  wife,  if  the  policemen  had  minded  their  own 
affairs  and  not  taken  liberties  with  Rabbit's  person. 

To  be  sure,  when  a  man  is  arrested  on  suspicion, 
or  on  a  direct  charge,  of  robbery,  he  may  properly 
be  searched,  because  the  stolen  goods,  if  found  on 
him,  are  primd  facie  evidence  of  his  guilt.  But  sup- 
pose a  man  is  arrested  on  an  indictment  for  libel  or 
perjury ;  has  the  officer  any  right  to  search  him  ? 
So,  when,  as  in  Rabbit's  case,  a  man  is  arrested  for 
chasing  his  wife  with  a  hatchet  in  hand,  has  the  offi- 
cer any  right  to  search  him  ?  And,  if  he  did  search 
him,  and  found  the  hatchet  in  his  pocket,  what  then  ? 
Is  a  hatchet  a  corpus  delicti  f  However,  not  to  pur- 
sue these  obvious  legal  principles,  the  matter  in  hand 
is  that,  right  or  wrong,  policemen  are  very  apt  to 
put  their  hands  into  prisoners'  pockets ;  and  Rabbit's 
pockets,  though  apparently  offering  no  temptation 
either  to  cupidity  or  curiosity,  were  not  excepted. 

They  didn't  produce  much.     A  jack-knife,  a  plug 


JOHK   DOE    AND   KICHARD   ROE.  259 

of  tobacco,  a  pipe,  some  shillings  in  small  change, 
and  something  or  other  wrapped  up  in  a  bit  of  news- 
paper, completed  the  inventory.  The  articles  were 
immediately  restored;  all  but  the  bit  of  newspaper, 
which  contained  what  was  probably  a  mock  diamond. 
But  what  was  the  use  of  wrapping  it  up  in  a  paper  ? 
That  seemed  to  indicate  that  the  prisoner  supposed  it 
to  be  valuable. 

"  Here,  Jack,"  said  one  of  the  men  to  another, 
"  you're  a  judge  of  paste,  having  been  a  bookbinder ; 
•what  do  you  say  to  that  ?" 

Jack  squirted  an  indefinite  quantity  of  tobacco 
juice  out  of  his  mouth  by  way  of  clearing  his  visual 
organs,  held  the  article  to  the  light,  and  delivered 
himself  of  the  opinion  that  a  bushel  of  them  things 
might  be  worth  a  dollar  and  a  half,  but  he  wouldn't 
like  to  be  the  purchaser. 

"  Where  did  you  get  this,  my  man  ?"  inquired  one 
of  the  officers. 

"  Found  it  on  the  pavement,"  replied  Habbit,  with 
drunken  gravity :  which  was  the  best  matter  and 
manner  he  could  have  hit  upon. 

"  Give  it  back  to  him,"  said  the  last  speaker. 

"  Hold  on  a  bit,"  said  another,  "  till  I  try  whether 
it'll  cut  glass."  And  he  applied  a  corner  of  the  stone 
to  a  window,  giving  it  a  sliding  curve  across  the  pane. 

"  By  Jupiter,  it  takes  hold,  though  1"  he  exclaimed. 
Then,  trying  another  corner  on  another  pane,  with 
the  same  result,  he  remarked  that  they  had  better  not 
go  too  fast  about  giving  it  back  to  the  man. 

"  D — n  it,"  said  one,  "  who  knows  but  this  is  one 
of  the  stolen  diamonds  ?" 

"  Sure  enough,"  said  another.  "  Keep  it  till  to- 
morrow morning  and  find  out." 


260  JOHN    DOE    AND    RICHARD    ROE. 

Upon  which,  Rabbit  was  conducted  to  a  sleeping . 
apartment  at  the  city's  expense. 

Rabbit  was  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  as  the 
Addisonian  phrase  runs ;  but  he  was  not  so  far  gone 
as  to  be  unaware  of  the  risks  of  his  position.  And 
the  first  thing  he  did,  \vhen  he  found  himself  alone, 
was  to  remove  a  small  parcel  of  miscellaneous  jewels 
which  were  sewed  inside  of  his  pantaloons,  in  order 
to  have  them  always  about  him  and  always  safe  from 
ordinary  observation ;  but  not  likely  to  be  secure 
against  such  a  search  as  he  now  foresaw  would  be 
instituted,  so  soon  as  the  actual  value  of  the  diamond 
was  ascertained. 

The  brief  history  of  the  case  is,  that  he  had  in- 
tended the  bit-of-newspaper  diamond  for  the  spout, 
but  was  interrupted  in  his  trip  by  the  little  domestic 
episode  of  the  hatchet.  He  had  previously  removed 
all  the  jewels  from  their  settings  and  had  hammered 
their  gold  attachments  into  a  shapeless  mass  with  the 
back  of  that  very  hatchet.  That  mass  he  stowed 
away  under  the  hearth-stone.  The  parcel  of  jewels 
now  cut  loose  was  small  in  size — not  larger  than  a 
piece  of  chalk — and  it  was  easily  hid  in  the  bed  of  his 
cell,  so  that  Rabbit  could  catch  it  up  again  in  a  hurry 
after  he  had  been  searched  and  before  he  should  be 
removed.  That  done,  Rabbit  went  to  sleep. 

In  the  morning,  the  little  newspaper-stone  was 
found  to  be  a  diamond  of  about  half  a  carat  in  weight, 
and  worth  at  least  fifty  dollars.  This  fact,  coupled 
with  the  outstanding  offer  of  rewards,  put  the  whole 
department  to  its  speed.  They  sent  for  the  clerk 
who  attended  to  the  wedding-ring  for  Rabbit,  to 
identify  him. 

At  first,  the  young  man  said,  no:    nothing  like 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   ROE.  261 

him.  On  a  closer  inspection,  there  was  a  resem- 
blance in  the  face :  but,  dont  you  see  ?  the  purchaser 
of  the  ring  was  a  gentleman,  and  this  fellow  is  a 
loafer. 

"  Better  not  be  too  sure  on  that  account,  if  that's 
all  that's  wanting,"  said  the  more  experienced  offi- 
cer, for  the  reward  was  floating  before  the  eyes  of 
the  department,  and  each  man's  eyes  we^  as  large 
as  saucers  and  as  sharp  as  fish-hooks.  "  Here,  some 
of  you,  fetch  in  one  of  those  suits  of  detained  clothes," 
he  continued  ;  "  we'll  make  a  gentleman  of  him  and 
then  try  the  likeness." 

This  resulted  more  satisfactorily.  The  clerk  saw 
his  man.  Hurrah  for  the  reward  ! 

Search  him  again?  Yes,  of  course.  But  they 
took  nothing  by  that.  Rabbit  had  been  too  smart 
for  them. 

"  Some  of  you  go  search  the  house,"  said  the  cap- 
tain, now  fully  awake  to  the  importance  of  the  dis- 
covery. 

That,  again,  was  successful.  The  mass  of  smashed 
rings,  breastpins  and  bracelets,  told  a  flattering  tale. 
This  was  conclusive  as  to  the  man  :  but  what  had  he 
done  with  the  jewels  ? 

It  is  only  the  first  step  that  costs.  The  oflacial 
sharps  had  already  taken  the  second  step.  Nothing, 
now,  was  impossible.  Besides,  it's  easy  finding  the 
fox  when  you  get  sight  of  his  tail.  Rabbit  had  spent 
the  night  in  the  cell,  and  probably  had  not  been 
idle.  Search  the  cell ! 


Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  it's  no  use  talking ! 
Rabbit  went  the  way  of  his  illustrious  predecessors, 


262  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHARD   ROE. 

who  had  all  taken  their  degree  from  the  hand  of 
Almus  Pater  Spring. 

A  man  must  be  far  gone,  when  the  best  thing  that 
can  happen  to  him,  both  on  his  own  "account  and  his 
family's — is  a  residence  in  the  state  prison  for  life. 
Such,  clearly,  was  Rabbit's  condition.  A  confirmed 
drunkard  and  a  brute,  what  else  is  he  fit  for  ? 


CHAPTEE    XXIX. 

THE    DUSSELDOKF. 

THE  Dusseldorf  Picture-Gallery  is  a  quiet  place  in 
the  latter  part  of  the  day  when  visitors  are  few,  and 
especially  on  a  day  when  there  happens  to  be  a 
grand  procession  in  Broadway,  which  brings  crowds 
of  idlers  into  the  streets  and  keeps  the  better  class 
of  citizens  out  of  them. 

At  such  a  time,  an  imaginative  person,  sitting  in 
front  of  one  of  the  fine  pictures — the  OTHELLO,  for 
example — with  a  tin  spy-glass  in  hand,  may  become  so 
lost  in  contemplation  as  to  fancy  he  sees  a  tear  of 
mingled  love  and  admiration  twinkling  in  the  bright 
eye  of  Desdemona:  that  he  hears  an  occasional  excla- 
mation of  wonder  from  the  grave  and  reverend  Bra- 
bantio  ;  and  that  he  almost  catches  the  perfume  of 
the  Falernian  wine  that  sparkes  in  that  flask :  while 
over  all,  and  pervading  all,  and  dominating  all,  are 
the  rich  tones  of  the  Moorish  general  recounting  his 
travels'  history. 

The  painter  of  that  picture  had  the  tact  to  antecede 
the  action  of  the  play  and  to  embody  on  his  canvas  a 
portion  of  its  preliminary  history,  as  gathered  from 
Othello's  address  to  the  Senate.  Jt  is  the  calm  that 
preceded  the  tempest.  A  scene  of  domestic  life  for 
which,  subsequently,  the  gentle  Desdemona  must  so 
painfully  have  longed.  One  of  the  days  of  that 
romantic  courtship  when,  as  Bulwer  has  it,  the  cream 


264-  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAKD   EOE. 

and  elixir  of  life  were  overflowing  her  cup  and  she 
had  no  foreboding  of  the  wormwood  at  the  bottom. 
A  point  of  her  history,  in  short,  when  her  evil  genius, 
Shakespeare's  master-demon,  had  not  yet  begun  to 
weave  about  her  and  hers  that  infernal  "  net  which 
should  enmesh  them  all." 

The  picture  is  a  biographical  sketch  of  the  hero 
and  heroine  before  the  great  magician  takes  them  in 
hand.  They  are  here  acting  their  own  parts,  inde- 
pendently of  his  control.  They  are  here  free  from 
the  influence  of  those  persons  and  incidents,  with 
whom  and  which  the  action  of  the  drama  subse- 
quently brings  them  in  contact.  If  Othello  and  Des- 
demona  could  but  have  had  the  grace  to  wait  until 
the  heart  of  the  father  could  be  wheedled  into  follow- 
ing the  heart  of  the  daughter,  and  that  his  consent 
should  supersede  the  necessity  of  a  clandestine  mar- 
riage ;  why,  then,  how  much  would  the  lovers  have 
gained !  Not  as  much,  though,  as  the  world  would 
have  lost. 

Such  thoughts  as  these  may  have  been  running 
through  the  brain  of  Mr.  Jackson,  one  certain  Thurs- 
day afternoon,  about  four  and  a  half  of  the  clock,  as 
he  sat  in  front  of  the  picture  referred  to.  Whatever 
were  his  thoughts,  they,  for  the  time  being,  had  the 
mastery  of  his  physical  senses,  for  he  was  unaware  of 
the  approach  of  a  light  footstep.  He  knew  not  that 
within  an  arm's  reach  of  his  chair,  stood  a  beautiful 
woman  whose  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  picture  almost 
as  intently  as  his  own. 

His  first  consciousness  of  the  presence  of  this  fair 
neighbor,  or  friend,  was  occasioned  by  a  gentle  touch 
of  a  small,  neatly-gloved  hand  on  his  shoulder.  It  is 
surprising  how  much  more  thrilling  a  light  touch 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   EOE.  265 

sometimes  is,  than  a  heavy  one :  how  much  more 
power  to  startle  or  to  stay  a  man,  lies  in  the  hand  of 
a  weak  woman  than  in  that  of  a  strong  man.  If  a 
constable  had  laid  his  brawny  grasp  on  the  shoulder 
of  Jackson,  accompanying  the  action  with  a  rude, 
blustering  "  1  want  you  !"  the  young  man  would  by 
no  means  have  been  so  intensely  moved  as  he  now 
was  by  the  almost  imperceptible  weight  of  that  little 
hand  and  the  almost  inaudible  utterance  of — 

"  All  alone?  and  thinking  of  poor  Desdemona?" 

"  Not  all  alone  now  /"  responded  the  happy  man : 
"  and'  not  now  thinking  of  Desdemona." 

The  gallery  consists  of  two  apartments,  a  large  and 
small  one,  connected  or  separated  as  the  case  may  be, 
by  a  door.  As  a  matter  of  curiosity,  the  gentleman, 
on  coming  into  the  larger  room,  had  peered  through 
the  narrow  doorway,  to  see  if  anybody  was  there. 
And  the  lady,  in  turn,  had  done  the  same  thing. 
Each,  therefore,  knew  that  they  two  were  alone.  But 
they  had  met  there  for  a  chat,  and  thought  the  little 
room  the  more  cosy  for  that  purpose.  Thither,  there- 
fore, they  adjourned. 

They  seated  themselves  so  as  to  command  a  view  of 
the  door,  and  lost  no  time  in  commencing  what  they 
had  to  say  to  each  other ;  but  they  conversed  in  so 
low  a  tone  that  no  eaves-dropper  could  have  caught 
a  syllable.  They  soon  became  absorbed  in  confi- 
dences, or  in  explanations,  and  they  gradually  turned 
away  from  the  door  and  waived  their  advantage,  if  it 
were  such,  of  watching  for  new-comers. 

They  probably  thought,  if  they  had  any  thought  on 
the  matter,  that  there  would  be  no  new-comers  so  late 
in  the  day.  And  the  ticket-seller  and  door-keeper, 
both  capacities  being  united  in  one  person,  seemed  to 

12 


266  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   ROE. 

be  of  the  same  mind :  for  he  had  thrown  down  his 
everlasting  newspaper,  every  word  of  which,  adver- 
tisements and  all,  he  had  read  three  times  over  ;  had 
also  counted  his  tickets  and  balanced  his  cash  account 
for  the  day ;  and,  had  fallen  fast  asleep.  It  was  that 
dreamy  hour  of  the  four  and  twenty  when  the  sun- 
light is  fading  away  and  the  gaslights,  though  com- 
ing, have  not  arrived. 

People  who  occupy  posts  either  of  trust  or  danger, 
if  they  do  sleep  on  them,  sleep  lightly.  Hence,  the 
footing  of  a  man,  though  very  gingerly  developed  in 
ascending  the  staircase,  sufficed  to  disturb  the  cat- 
nap of  the  vigilant  official,  and  he  awoke  to  profit. 
A  quarter  of  a  dollar,  which  he  had  not  in  the 
slightest  degree  anticipated,  was  deposited  on  the  dark 
blue  table  cover,  and  a  gentleman  who  may  as  well 
be  announced  as  Richard  Roe,  walked  into  the  gal- 
lery with  a  flutter  and  a  chuckle  ;  for,  he  expected 
to  make  something  more  of  his  visit  than  the  ticket- 
seller  had  done.  He  expected  to  have  his  man  Jack- 
son snug  under  his  thumb,  henceforth,  by  virtue  of 
detecting  him  in  an  intrigue. 

The  first  glance  of  the  prudent  and  provident 
banker  gave  him  a  cold  chill.  He  had  missed  his 
mark.  The  room  was  empty.  There  was  no  doubt 
about  it.  Not  a  living  person  besides  himself  was  in 
the  principal  apartment  of  the  gallery.  And,  with  a 
feeling  aptly  described  by  the  word  "  cheap/'  he 
began  to  stare  listlessly  about,  perhaps  with  a  dogged 
determination  of  making  up  for  his  disappointment 
by  getting  his  money's  worth  out  of  the  pictures. 
His  actual  knowledge  of,  and  taste  for,  the  art  of 
painting,  however,  bore  so  small  a  proportion  to  the 
•expenditure  he  had  lavished  on  it  in  decorating,  or 


JOHN    DOE    AND    KICHAKD    EOE.  267 

cumbering,  his  own  walls,  that  his  chance  of  so  get- 
ting his  money's  worth  was  very  small.  And  a  total 
want  of  interest  in  anything  before  him  soon  brought 
him  so  practically  to  that  conclusion,  that  he  would 
have  gone  away  again  at  once,  but  for  fear  that  the 
door-keeper  would  laugh  at  him  for  throwing  away 
his  money.  In  the  emergency,  he  set  himself  down 
opposite  the  first  picture  that  came  to  hand,  -and 
studied  it  with  the  most  desperate  determination. 

He  had  hardly  taken  his  seat  and  thereby  ceased  to 
impede  his  own  faculty  of  hearing  by  the  noise  of  his 
own  motion,  when  the  sound  of  a  whisper  in  the 
adjoining  room  diverted  his  attention  from  the  fine 
arts  and  concentrated  it  on  the  art  of  listening :  an 
art  which  he  understood  much  better  than  the  art  of 
painting. 

Ah,  Richard  Roe  !  Richard  Roe  !  could  you  bat 
have  heard ! 

But  he  couldn't.  He  waited  patiently.  Time  was 
no  object.  He  nearly  caught  a  stray  syllable.  By 
and  by  something  more  distinct  must  come.  Not  so! 
Not  a  word.  Not  one  solitary  word.  No  matter,  my 
fine  fellow  !  You  are  in  a  trap,  and  you  cannot  get 
out.  Poor  Jackson  !  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 

The  precise  position  of  a  sleeve  when  a  man  laughs 
in  it,  has  never  been  defined.  Nor  do  people  gene- 
rally understand  which  of  a  man's  sleeves  is  referred 
to,  in  the  popular  phrase.  Indeed,  all  that  is  posi- 
tively known  about  the  entire  institution,  is  the  fact 
that  the  sleeve  is  air-tight,  so  that  no  sound  of  the 
laugh  ever  goes  through  it.  In  the  present  instance 
this  was  proved,  fully.  Richard  was  enjoying  the 
laugh  in  his  sleeve  at  poor  Jackson's  expense,  to  an 
exorbitant  degree  ;  yet  not  a  sound  escaped.  Besides, 


JOHN   DOE   AISD   RICHARD    ROE. 

laughter,  like  jealousy,  feeds  on  itself;  the  more  Roe 
laughed,  the  more  funny  grew  the  joke ;  until  at 
last,  it  became  so  funny  that  Richard  forgot  all  about 
the  sleeve  and  unconsciously  let  off  an  interjectional 
snort  outside  of  it. 

The  sound,  although  Roe  made  it  himself,  startled 
him :  and  it  also  startled  somebody  else.  For  as 
Richard  turned  instinctively  toward  the  open  door- 
way, to  see  if  he  had  alarmed  the  objects  of  his  some- 
time listening,  the  face  of  Jackson  appeared  in  the 
doorway  to  ascertain  who  was  the  listener.  Before 
either  man  was  aware  of  it,  the  eyes  of  both  caught 
each  other  and  held  fast :  and  while  for  a  brief 
breathing  space  neither  seemed  capable  of  doing 
anything  but  hold  fast,  the  lady,  who  was  mysti- 
fied at  Jackson's  immobility  and  reticence,  thrust 
her  face  into  the  tableau,  a  little  on  the  right  of 
Jackson. 

The  dead  silence  that  temporarily  ensued  was 
impressive,  expressive  and  oppressive.  What  a 
moment,  as  the  novelists  say,  for  a  painter!  Strange, 
that  so  rare  an  opportunity  was  lost  on  the  spirits  of 
those  artists  whose  inspired  pencils  had  peopled  the 
surrounding  walls !  Strange,  that  not  one  among 
them  all  stepped  forth  from  his  glowing  canvas  to 
perpetuate  on  other  canvas  the  conflicting  emo- 
tions of  that  staring  group  !  Surprise,  terror,  exas- 
peration, jealousy,  fury  and  hatred  all  flashed  from 
those  three  faces,  as  under  the  spell  of  an  exorcist ; 
each  distinct  in  itself,  yet  all  so  blended  as  no  artist 
ever  blended  them ! 

In  astronomical  phrase,  here  was  a  conjunction  of 
Mercury,  Yenus  and  Mars  ;  and  if  perchance  the 
exterior  planet  should  be  surprised  out  of  his  centri- 


JOHN    DOE    AND    RICHARD    ROE.  269 

fngal  force  and  fall  within  the  orbits  of  the  lesser 
globes,  what  a  wreck  of  matter  arid  crush  of  worlds 
might  be  looked  for  ! 

A  pause,  under  these  circumstances,  was  perhaps 
inevitable  ;  but  it  was  growing  long. 

Richard  Hoe,  so  voluble  in  prayer,  have  you  no 
words  of  exhortation  appropriate  to  this  season  of 
trial '? 

Joseph  Jackson,  cannot  you  hit  upon  some  simple, 
plausible  and  credible  explanation  of  what,  on  the 
face  of  it,  certainly  has  a  squinting  toward  the 
improper  ? 

Madame  Helen  Roe — brilliant,  confused,  danger- 
ous— have  you  nothing  to  suggest  ?  Live  long,  my 
dear  madam,  live  many  years,  and  you  may  never 
again  have  so  needful  an  occasion  to  color  things 
equivocal  with  tilings  of  good  report. 
.  The  lady  had  a  great  deal  of  character — such  as  it 
was.  Her  attachment  to  Jackson  had  begun  early 
and  taken  deep  root,  but  it  broke  down  on  the 
money  question ;  she  having  no  fortune,  and  he  being 
rfone  of  that  class  who,  with  a  thousand  good  qualities, 
lacked  the  faculty  of  getting  on  in  the  world.  About 
those  days,  Roe  became  smitten  with  the  lady's  per- 
sonal attractions,  which  indeed  were  neither  few  nor 
small :  Jackson  grew  jealous  and  quarrelled ;  and 
the  lady  married  Roe  for  money — and  got  it :  the 
settlement  of  a  fortune  on  herself  having  been  a  con- 
dition of  the  match.  This  might  not  have  been  the 
surest  method  to  cure  Jackson  of  jealousy  and  quar- 
relling; yet  it  seemed  to  have  that  result,  as  the  young 
people  became  friends  again.  Possibly 

Things  were  substantially  in  this  condition,  when 
the  three  met  at  the  Dusseldorf.  The  lady  had 


270  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

hitherto  taken  pains  to  conceal  her  sentiments  toward 
Jackson,  because  she  thought,  as  most  people  think, 
that  it  is  better  to  "  save  appearances  ;"  but  when,  as 
now,  appearances  had  taken  to  themselves  wings, 
what  was  the  use  of  trying  to  save  them  ?  At  any 
rate,  as  to  Roe  her  position  was  one  of  no  trifling 
independence.  She  had  a  fortune  of  her  own,  she 
had  no  children,  and  she  lived  under  the  benign  laws 
of  the  State  of  New- York,  which  allow  married 
women  with  money  in  their  pockets  to  do  very  much 
as  they  please.  It  was  dangerous  for  Roe  to  attempt 
much  exertion  of  prerogative  toward  such  a  lady,  so 
minded :  and  he  entirely  miscalculated  the  force  of 
his  own  authority,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  power 
of  an  unprincipled  woman's  recklessness  on  the  other, 
when  he  at  length  broke  up  the  magnificent  tableau- 
for-a-painter,  and  advanced  with  the  obvious  intent 
of  laying  violent  hands  on  his  lady-wife. 

Jackson  was  a  splendid  fellow,  physically ;  alto- 
gether an  overmatch  for  Roe ;  and  whatever  the 
rights  or  wrongs  of  the  present  case,  he  would  have 
prevented  such  a  personal  collision  as  was  now 
impendent,  if  he  had  taken  Roe's  life  on  the  issue. 
But  the  lady  needed  none  of  his  aid.  The  mere  show 
of  violence  toward  herself,  had 

"  Made  each  petty  artery  in  her  frame 
As  hardy  as  the  Nemean  lion's  nerve ;" 

and,  withholding  with  her  left  hand  the  intervention 
of  her  champion,  she  stood  forward  against  her  des- 
perate husband,  confident  in  her  own  strength,  tower- 
ing, majestic ;  invincible  at  all  points — except  the 
justice  of  her  cause. 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHARD   KOE.  271 

King  Lear  says, 

"  Thou'd'st  shun  a  bear ; 
But  if  thy  path  lay  toward  the  raging  sea, 
Thou'd'st  meet  the  bear  i'  the  mouth." 

At  first,  Roe  instinctively  "  shunned "  the  athletic 
Jackson,  and  sought  what  he  supposed  to  be  a  safer 
victim  of  his  wrath.  But  when  he  beheld  the  dilating 
figure  of  this  magnificent  woman  advancing  upon 
him,  instead  of  retreating ;  he  found  to  his  dismay 
that  Jackson  was  only  the  bear,  while  the  lady  was 
the  raging  sea  ;  and  he  incontinently  turned  to  meet 
Jackson  "  i'  the  mouth  " — that  is  to  say,  with  the 
mouth  ;  for  Roe's  physical  fight  was  at  an  end  when 
he  quailed  before  his  wife.  It  is  one  of  the  strange 
disabilities  of  cowardice,  that  the  coward  cannot  play 
his  game  well,  even  when  he  holds  all  the  honors  in 
his  own  hand ! 

"  Yile  pander,  begone !"  cried  Roe,  attempting  to 
be  dignified  at  least  in  his  language,  but  failing  in 
that  as  in  everything :  for  his  pompous  syntax,  his 
cracked  voice,  and  his  ignorance  of  the  meaning  of 
words,  combined  to  render  his  demonstration  su- 
premely ridiculous.  He  waited  a  moment  to  watch 
the  effect  of  his  demolishing  remark,  which  in  his 
judgment  ought  to  have  demolished  anybody;  but 
Jackson  was  insensible  to  its  power.  Roe,  therefore, 
repeated  the  fulmination  with  increased  vehemence  : 
"  Yile  pander,  begone !" 

An  exceedingly  brief  portion  of  material  time  had 
elapsed  since  this  "  scene "  commenced :  yet  it  had 
sufficed  to  moderate  the  first  flush  of  passion  with 
which  each  of  the  three  parties  had  entered  upon  it ; 
and  to  show  them  that,  however  these  untoward  cir- 


272  JOHN    DOE    AND   EICHAED   KOE. 

cumstances  might  eventuate,  the  best  thing  for  all  of 
them  was  to  "  be  gone."  Each  of  the  three  seemed 
to  have  spontaneously  reached  that  conclusion,  as 
Mrs.  Roe  whispered  something  in  the  ear  of  Jackson. 
That  gentleman  hesitated ;  but  she  added,  aloud, 

"  It  is  best,  believe  me." 

He  then  bowed  assent  and  was  about  to  brush  past 
Roe,  when  to  the  great  relief  of  all,  the  door-keeper 
announced  the  arrival  of  his  dinner- hour.  An  hour, 
he  remarked,  when  it  was  too  dark  to  see  the  pic- 
tures without  gas,  and  too  early  to  light,  up  for  the 
evening. 

No  interruption  could  have  been  more  opportune, 
i  "What  took  place  between  the  Roes  on  their  way 
home,  never  transpired.  But  at  dinner,  that  day, 
Mrs.  Roe  was  quite  too  radiant  for  any  one  to  believe 
she  was  in  the  slightest  degree  subjugated  ;  while  the 
unfortunate  banker,  who  had  been  for  a  week  pri- 
vately chuckling  over  the  predicament  into  which  he 
was  about  to  plunge  "  poor  Jackson,"  was  propor- 
tionably  out  of  sorts. 

He  made  a  demonstration  or  two  on  Margaret  about 
the  weather ;  but  Margaret  was  too  good  a  tactician 
to  be  drawn  into  quarrels  other  than  her  own ;  and, 
seeing  matters  ajar  between  Roe  and  his  wife,  al- 
though she  knew  nothing  of  the  cause,  she  deter- 
mined to  let  them  fight  it  out,  without  her  aid  andx 
comfort.  Roe  was  thus  reduced  to  silence;  or  its 
alternative,  a  few  of  his  poor  attempts  at  wit  on 
Philip.  Philip  didn't  see  anything  funny  in  Roe's 
jokes:  and  no  wonder;  nobody  ever  did  see  anything 
funny  in  them,  though  Roe  had  been  practising  them 
all  his  life.  But  Philip  saw  that  he  was  expected  to 
laugh,  and  it  wasn't  for  him  to  judge  of  the  quality 


JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED    ROE.  273 

of  Roe's  wit :  therefore,  lie  grinned  and  showed  his 
ivory. 


The  next  morning,  Roe  called  Jackson  into  his 
private  office. 

"  Mr.  Jackson,"  said  he,  with  severe  majesty  and 
majestic  severity,  "  have  the  goodness  to  fill  up  a 
cheque  for  the  amount  of  your  account." 

"  Much  obliged  to  you,"  replied  Jackson,  coolly ; 
"  no  occasion  for  money  at  present." 

"  That's  your  aifair,"  said  Roe ;  "  you  can  take 
your  own  time  to  find  occasion  for  money.  But  be- 
fore you  leave  my  employment,  I  mean  that  you  shall 
be  paid  in  full." 

"  Oh,"  said  Jackson,  innocently  ;  "  that's  it,  is  it  ? 
Before  I  leave  your  employment,  Richard  Roe,"  he 
continued  in  a  different  tone,  "  I  intend  not  only  to 
%e  paid,  but  to  pay  in  full.  At  present,  however,  I 
have  no  intention  of  leaving  your  employment.  The 
place  suits  me." 

"  Your  occupancy  of  it,  sir,  does  not  suit  me,"  re- 
turned Roe,  with  increasing  severity  and  diminishing 
majesty.  "  Bring  me  the  cheque,  as  I  ordered,  before 
I  order  you  to  quit  these  premises." 

"  Richard  Roe,"  said  Jackson,  "  we  may  as  well 
understand  each  other.  You  speak  as  if  you  had 
control  of  my  motions ;  whereas  you  are  in  my 
power  ;  and,  if  you.  provoke  me,  I  will  ruin  you.  Don't 
fume,  sir !  Don't  roll  your  eyes  a-t  me !  Don't  flatter 
yourself  that  my  words  have  reference  to  any  lady  I 
I  refer  to  your  victims  in  this  office,  scores  of  whom 
you  have  ruined  by  professional  robbery.  Do  you 
suppose  that  I  am  blind,  and  a  fool  to  boot,  not  to 
12* 


274  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

know  the  length  and  breadth  of  your  dealings  with 
Hicks,  Burton,  Steele,  and  so  on?  They  submit  be- 
cause they  have  no  evidence  of  your  rascality.  But 
I  have  full  abstracts  from  your  books  of  all  those 
transactions.  Provoke  me,  now,  with  a  word,  or  a 
look,  and  I'll  place  the  whole  proof  in  the  hands  of 
those  men.  You  talk  of  ordering  me  to  quit  these 
premises !  Repeat  those  words,  if  you  dare !  I  tell 
you,  Richard  Roe,  banker  and  church-member,  you 
are  a  villain.  But  it  suits  my  convenience  to  remain 
on  a  salary  which  I  prefer  to  the  restricted  partner- 
ship you  have  often  proposed.  If  I  were  half  as  con- 
scientious, however,  as  you  profess  to  be,  I  would  quit 
you  of  my  own  choice :  for,  after  all,  money  received 
from  you  is  but  the  wages  of  iniquity." 

So  saying,  and  without  deigning  to  wait  for  a  re- 
ply, Jackson  strode  to  his  desk  and  resumed  the 
business  of  the  day,  which  Roe  had  temporarily 
interrupted. 

As  Jackson  reflected  on  this  interview,  so  unex- 
pectedly put  upon  him,  he  was  surprised  at  the  ease 
with  which  he  had  silenced  his  antagonist.  But  he 
did  not  know  how  much  he  had  been  aided  in  the  pre- 
mises by  a  false  impression  in  Roe's  mind.  Roe,  in 
his  astonishment  and  dismay  at  Jackson's  disclosures, 
imprudently  jumped  to  a  further  conclusion,  namely, 
that  Jackson  was  the  "  successor "  indicated  in  "Wil- 
son's postscript,  and  that  Jackson  therefore  had 
possession  of  that  dreaded  package  of  papers.  Jack- 
son had  said  nothing  to  warrant  such  an  inference, 
but — so  prone  are  men  to  deceive  themselves  when, 
with  an  over-estimate  of  their  own  sagacity,  they  once 
set  off  on  a  false  scent — the  very  fact  of  Jackson's 
omitting  any  reference  to  the  papers,  strengthened 


JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHARD   EOE.  275 

Hoe's  suspicions  and  apprehensions  that  he  had  them 
in  his  possession.  Roe,  therefore,  in  imagination  had 
before  him  not  only  the  successful  intriguer  with  his 
wife  and  the  equally  successful  spy  on  his  business 
frauds ;  but  Wilson  besides  with  his  knowledge  and 
papers,  all  rolled  into  one  person,  and  that  person 
standing  over  him,  in  gigantic  proportions,  the  very 
arbiter  of  his  fate ! 

It  is  no  wonder  that  Roe  quailed  before  such  an 
antagonist. 

But,  next  to  fear,  comes  hatred ;  and  next  to  ha- 
tred, comes  revenge.  Look  to  yourself,  Jackson ! 
Roe  has  been  crowded  into  a  position  where  even 
cowards  become  dangerous.  He  would  crawl  through 
a  very  small  hole  to  avoid  a  catastrophe ;  but  when 
every  avenue  of  escape  is  closed,  the  recklessness  of 
despair  may  become  a  part  even  of  his  sneaking  na- 
ture. Therefore,  Jackson,  look  to  yourself!  You 
have  pressed  your  man  hard.  But  don't  presume  too 
far  on  his  cowardice,  nor  on  his  religion  ! 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

MARGARET      AND      SAM. 

SAM  GRAY  was  a  sad  fellow.  He  belonged  to 
that  class  of  people  who  are  counted  in  a  census,  or 
a  crowd  ;  but  who,  in  the  qualities  that  constitute  a 
man,  fall  so  far  short  of  any  recognized  standard, 
that  they  deserve  no  individualization  in  history. 
All  that  need  be  known  about  Sam,  is  known.  He 
is  the  accepted  admirer  of  Margaret  Roe.  Should 
the  pair  chance  to  be  married,  he  would  be  known  as 
the  husband  of  Margaret  Gray,  nee  Roe.  And  when 
he  ceases  to  be  known  at  all,  his  epitaph  would  be, 
"  He  married  a  Roe."  No  great  distinction,  indeed ; 
but  you  can't  have  more  of  a  cat  than  her  skin. 

How  it  came  to  pass  that  Margaret  Roe  ever  de- 
scended to  a  passionate  attachment — perhaps,  more 
properly  speaking,  an  obstinate  attachment — to  such 
a  person  as  Sam  Gray,  is  explained,  so  far  as  such  a 
freak  can  be  explained,  in  chapter  VII.,  page  69,  of 
this  history — to  wit :  it  cannot  be  explained  at  all. 
It  is  one  of  the  strange  facts  of  real  life.  It  would 
never  do'in  a  novel. 

Just  now,  Sam  is  ill ;  and  Margaret,  silly  puss !  is 
distressed ;  and  doctor  Jenkins  is  in  attendance. 
And  Margaret,  too,  is  in  attendance  more  or  less ; 
because  that  is  one  of  the  prerogatives  of  a  young 
lady  who  is  engaged  to  be  married,  and  doesn't  deny 
it.  In  that  way  it  happened  that  Margaret  and  doe- 

27$ 


JOHN    DOE   AND   RICHARD   EOE.  2  77 

tor  Jenkins  met  one  day  in  the  parlor  of  Gray, 
senior. 

"  How  is  he  to-day,  doctor  ?"  inquired  the  yo'ung 
lady. 

"  Very  ill  indeed,"  was  the  doctor's  reply :  and 
one  might  easily  infer  from  the  tone  of  the  speaker 
that  the  fact  gave  him  very  little  uneasiness. 

"  Doctor,"  pursued  Margaret,  "  what  is  the  matter 
with  him  ?" 

"  A  disease,"  answered  the  doctor,  "  which  is  the 
necessary  consequence  of  his  bad  habits :  it  is  nei- 
ther more  nor  less  than  delirium  tremens." 

"  Doctor,"  said  Margaret,  reproachfully,  "  I  hope 
you  will  not  turn  against  Sam,  as  everybody  else  does." 

"  Margaret,"  replied  the  doctor,  softening  his  tone 
in  deference  to  her  real  distress,  "I  have  told  you 
the  simple  truth  from  my  positive  knowledge  of  the 
case.  And,  as  you  intimate  that  everybody  but 
yourself  is  of  my  opinion,  I  hope  you  will  one  day 
come  to  the  same  conclusion  yourself." 

"  Never  !"  cried  Margaret,  passionately.  "  I  ne- 
ver will !" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  make  so  silly  a  remark," 
the  doclpr  continued,  but  without  any  unkindness  of 
manner  :  "  you  don't  suppose,  Margaret,  that  you  are 
wiser  than  all  the  world?" 

"  I  suppose,"  answered  Margaret,  "  that  Sam 
knows  his  own  story  better  than  all  the  world  does  ; 
and  when  he  tells  me  that  all  the  world  calumniates 
him,  I  will  believe  him  against  all  the  world." 

"  It  is  often  the  misfortune  of  young  ladies  in  your 
position,  my  dear  young  friend,"  replied  the  doctor, 
"  both  to  believe  and  to  disbelieve  precisely  what 
they  should  not.  I  am  entirely  aware  of  the  embar- 


278  JOHN   DOE   AND    RICHARD   ROE. 

rassments  of  your  position.  I  know  its  hardships 
and  trials,  at  home  and  elsewhere.  I  make  more 
allowance  for  your  infatuation  about  that  young  man 
than  others  do,  because  my  intimate  professional 
relations  with  your  mother,  and  my  subsequent 
knowledge  of  your  father  and  stepmother,  have  ena- 
bled me  to  understand  the  case  fully.  But  for  that 
very  reason,  since  you  now  give  me  an  opportunity 
that  I  have  long  sought,  I  wish  to  tell  you  plainly 
what  you  ought  to  know,  and  what  so  many  of  your 
friends  have  already  told  you,  to  no  purpose." 

"  I  hope,"  .said  Margaret,  imploringly,  "  that  you 
will  not  take  advantage  of  this  time  of  trouble,  to  say 
what  I  should  not  hear." 

"  Trust  me,  Margaret,"  returned  the  doctor,  "  I 
will  say  nothing  that  your  mother  would  not  say, 
were  she  here  to  see  what  she  so  truly  foreboded. 
Her  painful  prophecy,  thus  far,  is  literally  fulfilled  : 
God  forbid  that  the  sequel  should  be  so  !  Possibly, 
this  sickness  was  designed  to  bring  you  to  a  state  of 
mind  in  which  you  will  listen  ;  or,  it  may  have  been 
sent  as  the  arbiter  between  you  and  the  fate  you  are 
rushing  on,  to  place  such  self-destruction  out  of  your 
reach  :  a  termination  which,  in  my  judgment,  would 
be  simply  providential.  But  if  the  young  man  reco- 
vers, and  you  should  join  yourself  with  him  pre- 
viously to  a  thorough  reformation  on  his  part — 
which  is  utterly  hopeless — you  will  have  secured  a 
life  of  such  misery  as  all  your  home  experience  can- 
not aid  you  to  conceive." 

To  this  authoritative  and  solemn  admonition,  Mar- 
garet could  reply  only  by  tears  and  by  broken  assev- 
erations that  Sam's  conduct  would  yet  give  the  lie 
to  his  calumniators. 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHARD   ROE.  279 

"  So  far,  so  good,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  but  in  the 
meantime,  why  continue  an  engagement  so  fraught 
with  risks  and  disadvantages  to  yourself  ?  The  pro- 
bation you  suggest  will  come  to  nothing  :  the  young 
man  will  impose  on  your  credulity  in  that,  just  as 
hitherto  he  has  done  in  everything.  And  I  may  well 
transpose  the  scripture-text  and  inquire  how  much 
the  better  you  will  be,  when  you  have  gained  such 
a  husband  and  lost  the  whole  world  ?  "We  will  await 
the  issue  of  this  illness  ;  but  meantime,  Margaret, 
remember  that  what  I  have  said  comes  to  you,  in  effect, 
with  the  high  sanction  of  your  mother's  authority." 

And,  as  the  doctor  thought  proper  to  leave  the 
matter  thus  in  suspense,  other  people  must  be  con- 
tent to  do  likewise. 


There  is  no  doubt  that,  if  Mrs.  Roe  could  have 
had  a  preliminary  voice  in  the  affair,  she  would  have 
given  it  against  being  discovered  by  her  husband  at 
the  Dusseldorf.  But  when  the  march  of  events  took 
the  question  of  privacy  out  of  her  hands,  she  was 
precisely  the  person,  and  in  precisely  the  position,  to 
make  the  best  of  the  new  order  of  things. 

In  the  first  place,  she  appreciated  the  advantage 
to  herself  of  the  limited  character  of  the  discovery. 
It  made,  to  her,  all  the  difference  in  the  world,  that 
no  third  person  was  present,  to  hear  and  carry  the 
matter :  and  few  things  are  more  certain  than  that 
the  three  who  were  present  would  keep  counsel. 
She  felt  refreshed  by  the  novel  circumstance  of  being 
involved  in  a  family  secret  that  must  be  kept. 

In  the  second  place,  she  enjoyed  the  full  benefit  of 
the  paradox,  that  the  discovery  of  her  intrigue  pro- 


280  JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   BOF.  • 

moted  its  security.  There  is  no  question  tliat  it  did 
so,  because, 

In  the  third  place,  since  detection  must  ensue, 
Richard  Roe  was  the  man  of  all  the  men,  the  person 
of  all  the  persons,  in  the  wide  world,  whom  she  would 
have  preferred  to  accomplish  it.  For,  she  was  inde- 
pendent of  him  in  property  :  she  knew  that  his  pride 
(the  only  vestige  of  a  virtue  that  he  possessed)  would 
prevent  his  exposing  her  ;  and  lie  knew  from  her  own 
mouth  that  she  despised  and  detested  him.  Why 
should  she  regret  that  he  now  had  better  evidence  to 
the  last  point,  than  even  her  own  declarations  ? 
"What  could  he  do  about  it  ?  How  could  he  help 
himself  ? 

It  is  a  feature  in  domestic  history,  when  a  wife 
can  set  up  her  own  private  Gibraltar  in  the  family 
mansion :  her  own  rock  of  offence  and  defence 
against  which  a  whole  army  of  indignant  husbands 
may  blaze  away,  and  welcome.  One's  own  Gibral- 
tar is  a  great  institution.  Conditioned,  however, 
that  the  material  is  good.  Granite.  Not  Soapstone. 

When  Mrs.  Roe  had  finished  this  train  of  reason- 
ing, and  ascertained  that  her  Gibraltar  was  made  of 
granite,  she  felt  very  much  as  one  feels  after  draw- 
ing a  high  prize  in  a  lottery.  She  was  disposed 
to  be  condescending,  liberal,  magnanimous  to  some- 
body. And,  Richard  Roe  being  out  of  the  ques- 
tion for  any  act  of  her  grace,  and  Margaret  being 
next  at  hand,  why,  she  would  see  what  she  could  do 
for  Margaret.  She  therefore  turned  over  a  new 
leaf.  She  became  a  non-combatant.  She  took  no 
notice  of  Roe,  one  way  or  another.  But  she  set 
about  cultivating  Margaret.  And  Margaret,  sub- 
dued by  grief  on  Sam's  account,  and  unconsciously 


JOHN   DOE   AND  EICHARD   KOE.  281 

mollified  by  the  cessation  of  domestic  hostilities, 
fell  into  half  amicable  relations  with  her  stepmo- 
ther, before  she  was  aware  of  it. 

It  is  odd,  how  things  work  together  in  this  world  ! 
Margaret  and  her  father  not  only  never  had  any 
mutual  cordiality,  but  there  was  no  single  point  of 
friendly  contact  between  them.  Nevertheless,  sub- 
sequently to  the  death  of  Margaret's  mother,  the 
father  and  daughter  had  got  on  quietly.  They  had 
lived  peaceably.  No  friendly  intercourse  ;  but  also, 
no  quarrelling.  The  difference  between  that  state  of 
things  and  the  turmoil  of  incessant  controversy,  is  a 
difference  that  experience  alone  can  fully  compre- 
hend ;  and  that  difference  was  developed  in  Roe's 
household  immediately  after  the  accession  of  Mrs. 
Richard  Roe  the  Second.  Hence,  it  is  no  calumny 
to  say  that  she  was  the  disturbing  element  in  the 
premises.  Roe  was  responsible  for  having  placed 
her  at  the  head  of  affairs,  but  she  was  responsible  for 
the  faults  of  her  administration.  Mrs.  Roe,  then, 
made  Margaret's  home  more  uncomfortable  than  it 
was  before  ;  and  an  unhappy  home,  in  turn,  had  its 
effect  in  promoting  Margaret's  constancy  to  Sam — 
any  change  promising  to  be  for  the  better,  for  her. 
She  thought  it  safer  to  fly  to  ills  that  she  knew 
nought  of,  than  to  bear  those  that  she  knew  too 
much  of.  Nothing,  therefore,  could  be  more  natural 
than  that,  while  she  was  thus  balancing  contrasts, 
and  while  the  admonitions  and  warnings  of  doctor 
Jenkins  were  ringing  in  her  ears,  a  favorable  change 
in  the  condition  of  things  at  home,  produced  by  Mrs. 
Roe's  change  of  tactics,  should  have  led  Margaret 
into  reflections  on  her  engagement  with  Sam,  which 
were  somewhat  ominous  for  that  young  gentleman's 


282  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  ' 

hopes.  And  after  all  that  had  come  and  gone,  if  she 
could  be  brought,  to  hesitate  about  that  affair,  the 
proverb  would  stand  a  good  chance  of  being  reversed. 
Thus — to  repeat  the  first  line  of  this  paragraph — it  is 
odd  how  things  work  together !  The  discovery  at 
the  Dusseldorf,  which  had  no  conceivable  connec- 
tion with  Sam,  led  to  a  condition  of  things  that  might 
substantially  disconnect  Sam  from  his  matrimonial 
prospects. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

REUNION. 

PHEBE  never  made  much  account  of  her  uncle 
Sam.  She  had,  in  fact,  known  her  father,  though 
she  had  very  little  recollection  of  him,  and  that 
knowledge,  slight  as  it  was,  answered  the  require- 
ments of  Nature's  statute,  technically. 

But  Tom,  who  was  somewhat  in  the  predicament 
of  Marryat's  Japhet,  having  "  lost  "  his  father  some 
months  before  he  was  born,  had  never  yet  had  his 
bump,  or  sentiment,  of  filiation  developed.  That 
quality  in  him  remained  like  the  legs  of  a  snake,  indi- 
cated beneath  the  skin  by  imperfect  anatomical  articu- 
lations. But  when  the  boy  first  heard  of  an  uncle, 
a  thing  he  had  never  heard  of  before  as  pertaining 
to  himself,  an  undeveloped  something  under  his  skin 
sympathetically  struggled  toward  a  leap  into  the  old 
gentleman's  arms.  Moreover,  in  the  rare  instances 
when  he  caught  sight  of  this  apocryphal  relative — 
real,  to  him — his  demonstrations  attracted  the  notice 
of  Wilson  and  produced  a  corresponding  return. 
And  when  Tom  learned  his  uncle's  departure  for 
Wisconsin  without  leave-taking,  he  had  quite  a  turn 
of  "  homesickness,"  for  which  his  limited  knowledge 
of  materia  medica  furnished  no  remedy. 

Uncle  Sam.  however,  did  not  leave  his  relatives 
without  witness.  He  bequeathed  to  his  niece,  Mrs. 
Pinch,  the  furniture  of  his  apartments,  and  the  sum 

288 


284  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  * 

of  one  hundred  dollars  for  pin  money.  He  gave 
Phebe  the  sum  of  twenty-five  dollars  toward  keeping 
her  sewing-machine  supplied  with  ammunition,  when- 
ever possession  of  said  machine  should  be  realized. 
And  to  Tom,  he  gave  a  like  sum,  together  with  his 
stock  of  cheap  novels,  magazines  and  illustrated 
newspapers. 

Thus,  with  Phebe's  prospects,  and  Tom's  prospects 
and  the  widow's  possessions,  the  Pinch  family  seemed 
to  be  in  a  fair  way  of  not  being  pinched  any  more. 

On  finding  herself  thus  comfortably  established, 
Mrs.  Pinch  began  to  consider  how  she  might  do 
good  to  others  ;  and  she  hunted  up  Mrs.  Rabbit,  her 
old  friend  and  former  fellow-lodger,  whose  story  was 
soon  told.  It  was  another  instance  of  the  short  and 
simple  annals  of  the  poor. 

From  the  day  when  she  was  relieved  of  the  intol- 
erable burden  of  her  husband,  her  health  and  circum- 
stances began  to  improve.  She  gained  much  from 
the  Society  that  first  took  her  in  charge,  and  more 
from  the  ladies  connected  with  it,  who  found  her 
skill  with  the  needle  could  be  better  employed  and 
much  more  munificently  compensated,  on  their  own 
finery.  She  was  thus  transferred  suddenly  from  a 
state  of  great  want  to  one  of  comparative  affluence. 
Indeed,  the  change  in  her  appearance  and  surround- 
ings was  so  entire  that  Mrs.  Pinch,  who  had  not  seen 
her  for  several  weeks,  hardly  recognized  her.  And 
the  baby,  too,  which  was  squalid  enough  at  their 
last  interview,  was  now  as  chubby,  rosy  and  hilarious, 
as  if  it  had  been  born  with  a  silver  spoon  in  its 
mouth. 

On  comparing  notes,  the  two  widows  found  that 
they  could  be  of  use  to  each  other.  Mrs.  Rabbit 


JOHN    IK»K    AND    EICHAED   ROE.  285 

wanted  companionship,  and  a  better  location,  and 
Mrs.  Pinch  wanted  a  tenant  for  uncle  Sam's  fur- 
nished apartments — which  being  furnished,  could  be 
rented  cheaply  to  Mrs.  Rabbit,  and  yet  at  a  consider- 
able advance  over  the  landlord's  price  for  the  vacant 
rooms.  Then,  Mrs.  Pinch  could  take  part  in  Mrs. 
Rabbit's  needlework  which  accumulated  on  her  hands 
faster  than  her  own  hands  could  perform  it.  Again, 
by  making  common  cause  in  the  matter  of  housekeep- 
ing, they  could  secure  innumerable  little  conveniences 
and  economies.  Moreover,  the  baby  would  be  bet- 
ter cared  for ;  and,  in  return,  it  would  be  a  desirable 
acquisition  to  the  circle — a  real  light  in  the  dwelling. 
In  short,  the  advantages  of  the  plan  were  so  obvious 
and  manifold,  that  the  women  dropped  the  argument 
and  set  about  moving  energetically  ;  and  when  Tom 
and  Phebe  came  home  to  supper,  they  were  equally 
surprised  and  delighted  to  find  the  pair  of  Rabbits 
permanently  installed  in  uncle  Sam's  rooms,  and  a 
grand  banquet  of  tea,  chocolate,  sweetmeats  and 
waffles  spread  out  in  honor  of  the  strangers. 

Tom  and  Phebe  both  knew  what  was  expected  of 
them  in  regard  to  the  supper,  and  both  came  up  to 
Lord  Nelson's  order  very  harmoniously.  But  there 
was  a  strife  between  them  for  the  possession  of  the 
baby,  which  seemed  to  have  been  kept  awake  for 
no  other  purpose.  The  difficulty  was  at  length  ac- 
commodated, just  in  time  to  save  the  young  Rabbit 
from  being  pulled  into  two  pieces,  by  the  mother's 
decision  that  Tom-  must  take  turns  with  Phebe  in 
holding  it — the  baby,  meanwhile,  manifesting  the 
utmost  impartiality  between  the  combatants  and  being 
equally  happy  in  the  arms  of  either  charmer. 

The  festivities  were  prolonged  to  a  late  hour — for 


286  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

such  a  party.  But  as  the  clock  struck  eight,  the 
youngster  was  cabined,  cribbed,  confined ;  the  ladies 
withdrew  to  their  gossip  and  Tom  to  his  merchan- 
dise. 

Jones  also  took  a  great  interest  in  the  new-comers. 
He  had  been  directly  instrumental  not  only  in  reliev- 
ing Mrs.  Rabbit's  pressing  necessities,  but  in  actually 
saving  the  life  of  both  mother  and  child  on  that  ter- 
rible evening  when  the  mother  deliberately  under- 
took her  own  and  her  child's  destruction.  And  now 
that  his  good  work  was  producing  such  good  fruits, 
he  seemed  as  much  gratified  as  the  party  principally 
concerned. 

One  of  the  characteristics  of  benevolence  is,  that  it 
always  gravitates  toward  the  objects  which  have 
once  attracted  it. 


CHAPTER  XXXn. 

JACKSON'S  ACCOUNT  CURRENT. 

THE  sober  second  thought  of  Richard  Roe,  as 
touching  his  purposes  of  vengeance  on  Jackson,  was 
in  no  respect  more  favorable  or  propitious  toward 
the  object  of  his  wrath,  than  his  fiery  first  thought. 
But  Roe  was  an  old  soldier,  and  was  about  the  last 
man  in  these  United  States  to  act  precipitately 
where,  by  precipitate  action,  he  might  break  his  own 
neck.  He  would  use  up  Jackson.  No  mistake  about 
that.  But  he  would  take  his  time  for  it.  He  would 
first  survey  the  ground.  He  would  see  how  the  land 
lay.  Perhaps  he  would  draw  Jackson  into  a  confer- 
ence with  the  ulterior  purpose  of  drawing  him  into 
making  a  proposition.  He  might  obtain  from  Jack- 
son an  offer  to  sell  those  papers  which  had  been  his 
bugbear  for  months,  and  would  continue  to  be  so 
until  he  got  possession  of  them.  No  harm  could 
come  of  getting  Jackson  to  the  point  of  offering  to 
sell.  He  would  see. 

"  Mr.  Jackson,"  said  Roe,  in  a  tone  which  might 
be  friendly,  might  be  wheedling,  might  be  danger- 
ous, and  might  be  almost  anything,  "  will  you  step 
into  my  private  office  for  a  moment  ?" 

Enter  Jackson,  conformably. 

"  Eh — Mr.  Jackson,"  Roe  continued,  "  you  spoke 
to  me  about  some  papers — a — abstracts  from  books, 
which  you  have ;  and  which  you  might  put  to  use 

887 


283  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

some  of  these  days.  Just  for  the  curiosity  of  the 
thing,  I  would  like  to  know  your  views." 

"  My  views  of  those  papers  ?"  said  Jackson,  not  a 
little  astonished  at  the  suddenness  of  the  application, 
but  determined,  nevertheless,  to  show  a  bold  front ; 
"my  views  are  that  those  papers  will  secure  me 
against  any  antagonistic  action  on  your  part  for  an 
indefinite  period :  and  I  hold  them  as  a  check  upon 
you." 

"  But,"  said  Roe,  "  supposing  I  contemplate  no 
antagonistic  action,  as  you  call  it :  how  then  ?" 

"  You  are  rather  an  uncertain  person,  Mr. 
Roe,"  answered  Jackson ;  "  and  a  curb  that  I  can 
rely  on,  is  no  bad  thing  for  me  to  hold  in  readiness." 

"  Ah,"  cried  Roe,  with  an  unhappy  effort  at  a  sar- 
castic tone,  "  perhaps  the  curb  you  speak  of  is  part 
of  a  harness  of  black-mail  2" 

"  If  you  wish  to  buy  those  papers  and  my  silence 
along  with  them,"  said  Jackson,  feeling  the  reins  and 
finding  that  Roe  was  champing  on  the  bit ;  "  if  you 
wish  to  buy,  you  can  mention  your  terms.  For,  after 
all,  there  is  no  great  congeniality  between  you  and 
me,  and  we  might  be  better  friends  if  a  reasonable 
distance  separated  us." 

"  I  said  nothing  of  a  wish  to  buy,"  said  Roe,  coldly. 

"  But  you  have  such  a  wish,  nevertheless,"  replied 
Jackson.  "  And  if  your  diffidence  prevents  you  from 
making  an  offer,  you  may  find  a  friend  who  will 
make  it  for  you.  I  wouldn't  mind  doing  as  much  as 
that  for  you  myself.  I  think  I  know  your  '  views,' 
and  I  will  make  myself  an  offer,  on  your  account, 
conformably  to  those  views.  Then,  on  my  own  ac- 
count, I  will  take  your  offer  into  consideration.  I 
will  manage  the  thing  thus  : 


JOHN   DOE   AND   KICHAED   EOE.  289 

"  *  Mr.  Jackson,  I  am  authorized  by  Mr.  Roe  to 
offer  you  for  that  entire  parcel  of  papers  and  all  the 
facts  within  your  knowledge  thereunto  appertaining, 
the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars.' 

"  '  Very  good,'  I  reply,  in  my  own  person,  '  I  don't 
think  I'll  take  it,  Mr.  Roe.' 

"  By  the  way,"  continued  Jackson,  interrupting 
his  bantering  and  supposititious  negotiation  to  throw 
in  a  side-winder,  "  I  forgot  to  mention  one  thing 
which,  to  me,  is  superlatively  indifferent,  though  you 
may  regard  it  in  another  light.  I  have  been  sub- 
poenaed in  the  case  of  John  Doe  vs.  Richard  Roe,  on 
the  part  of  the  plaintiff;  and,  by  coupling  the  sub- 
poena with  the  order  on  you  to  produce  the  books  on 
the  trial,  I  imagine  that  I  am  to  be  called  upon  to 
testify  as  to  my  knowledge  of  those  books :  not  only 
as  to  what  they  contain,  but  as  to  their  disappear- 
ance— «f  which  I  know  more  than  I  have  told !  You 
must  judge  how  my  testimony  would  figure  in  that 
matter.  All  I  can  say  is,  that  if  you  and  I  agree  as 
to  price,  I  will  place  myself  in  a  position  much  re- 
sembling the  books  themselves,  in  one  respect :  I  will 
be  unproducible  as  a  witness.  And  now,  in  view  of 
this,  my  '  views '  are,  that  I  don't  think  I'll  take  your 
offer  of  ten  thousand  dollars." 

Jackson  had  hit  on  that  sum  incidentally,  and  by 
way  of  feeling  his  customer.  Yet  the  identity  of 
amount  with  the  offer  made  by  "Wilson  had  the  effect 
of  corroborating  Roe's  suspicion  that  Wilson  and 
Jackson  were  acting  in  concert,  and  that  Jackson 
really  had  possession  of  the  dreaded  papers.  Rea- 
soning on  this  preconceived  idea,  he  came  to  a 
sudden  conclusion  that  he  would  make  an  end  of 
the  papers-question,  all  and  singular,  with  Jack- 
13 


290  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

son's  acquired  information,  and  be  thereafter  in  a 
safer  condition  to  pursue  his  personal  retaliation  on 
Jackson  himself.  Vengeance  was  in  his  heart,  but 
the  time  to  strike  with  impunity  had  not  arrived. 
One  thing  at  a  time,  thought  Roe.  Negotiation  first. 
Retaliation  afterward.  The  papers  must  be  got  out 
of  the  way. 

In  pursuance  of  this  thought,  he  replied  to  Jack- 
son's last  remark,  that  he,  Jackson,  need  not  be  at 
much  pains  to  decline  an  offer  which  he,  Roe,  had 
not  made. 

"  No  matter  for  technicalities,"  said  Jackson.  "  I 
saw  the  offer  in  your  eye ;  which,  to  me,  is  more 
conclusive  than  to  have  heard  it  from  your  lips. 
I  understand  your  eye,  Mr.  Roe,  and  I  can  trust 
it.  Your  words  are  not  always  to  be  depended  on. 
I  consider  that  I  have  your  offer  under  consideration." 

"  You  may  consider  what  you  please,  and  carry 
your  consideration  as  far  as  you  please,"  said  Roe, 
reddening,  though  he  dared  not  exhibit  much  anger. 
"  I  have  made  no  offer ;  but  if  I  were  to  offer, 
it  would  be  not  only  for  the  papers  you  have — and 
all  of  them-^-\)\\i  for  a  supplementary  affidavit,  that 
whereas  you  spoke  of  having  certain  papers  in  your 
possession,  you  retract  that  assertion,  and  state, 
under  oath,  that  no  paper  in  your  possession  is  a 
genuine  account  of  any  of  my  business  transac- 
tions." 

"  If  you  multiply  conditions,"  said  Jackson,  coolly, 
"  I  shall  raise  the  amount  of  your  offer.  Meantime, 
if  you  are  ready  to  commit  yourself  to  a  proposal 
for  ten  thousand  dollars,  you  can't  say  so  too  soon." 

"  What  answer  do  you  make  to  the  proposal  for 
such  a  certificate  ?"  inquired  Roe  ;  who  was  already 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  291 

insensibly  carried  beyond  his  intended  stopping-place, 
first  by  his  uncontrollable  anxiety  to  get  possession  of 
the  papers,  and  next,  sympathetically,  and  by  force  of 
a  habit  that  led  him  when  he  once  began  to  "  talk  " 
negotiation,  to  carry  his  point  to  a  practical  conclu- 
sion— as  children  "  play  "  fighting,  and  before  they 
are  aware  of  it,  find  themselves  fighting  in  earnest. 

"  I  have  no  objection  to  give  you  such  a  certifi- 
cate," replied  Jackson,  "  provided  I  carry  my  own 
points  in  the  negotiation." 

"  And  no  objection,  I  presume,"  added  Roe,  "  to 
discontinue  all  acquaintance  and  intercourse  with  my 
family?" 

"  My  dear  sir,"  replied  Jackson,  with  a  superb 
air  of  mock  dignity,  "  don't  embarrass  our  negotia- 
tion by  references  to  any  lady." 

"  It's  all  one,"  said  Roe,  stung  to  the  quick  by 
Jackson's  sneering  tone ;  "  I  can  take  care  of  that 
matter  myself." 

And  he  at  once  set  about  drawing  up  the  requi- 
site certificate  for  Jackson  to  sign.  Roe  prided 
himself  on  drawing  papers  and  writing  letters. 
He  did  them  both  very  badly,  because  he  overdid 
them.  lie  conveyed  in  his  letters  either  no  mean- 
ing, or  something  opposed  to  his  intended  meaning, 
by  his  elaborate  phraseology.  And  he  made  his 
"  papers "  so  strong  that  they  betrayed  an  over- 
reaching and  dishonest  purpose  on  his  part ;  so  that 
whatever  their  legal  force  might  be,  as  against  the 
signers,  they  proved  rascality  in  the  man  who  drew 
them. 

"There,"  said  Roe,  as  he  finished  the  certificate 
to  suit  himself,  "  sign  that  and  hand  it  to  me  with 
all  the  other  papers,  and  I  will  give  you  a  cheque 


292  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

for  the  amount  stipulated,  including  what  is  due  yon 
on  my  books." 

"  At  one  o'clock,"  said  Jackson,  looking  at  his 
watch,  "  I  will  be  prepared  to  complete  this.  As 
to  the  family  matter — why,  as  you  say,  you  can 
take  care  of  that  yourself." 


At  one  o'clock  it  was.  Jackson  presented  himself 
with  a  formidable  package  of  papers,  sealed  and 
addressed  to  Richard  Roe,  accompanied  by  the  certi- 
ficate, duly  signed  and  sworn  to,  and  a  sworn  affida- 
vit that  the  package  of  papers  herewith  delivered 
contained  everything  in  his  possession  relating  to 
Roe's  affairs.  He  also  handed  to  Roe  a  cheque  for 
the  money  which  Roe  was  to  sign,  the  filling  up  of 
which  cheque  was  to  be  Jackson's  last  official  act  in 
Roe's  service. 

It  chanced,  that  Richard  was  prevented  from 
examining  the  sealed  up  parcel  of  papers,  by  the 
entrance  of  the  Honorable  Thomas  Snagg,  U.  S. 
Minister  and  So  Forth  to  the  Hebrides,  who  was 
about  to  sail  for  his  destination,  and  was  anxious  to 
pay  his  respects  to  the  good  banker.  On  this 
occasion,  Roe's  weakness  in  affecting  great  men 
prevented  his  making  an  examination  of  the 
papers,  and  he  signed  the  cheque  on  the  faith  that 
Jackson  was  keeping  faith — which,  indeed,  he  was. 

The  loose  screw  in  the  business  was  the  fact  that 
Jackson  was  not  the  "  successor  "  indicated  in  Wil- 
son's postscript :  but  Jackson  could  not  be  held  re- 
sponsible for  that. 


CHAPTEE    XXXIII. 

TRAVERSE'S   BRIEF. 

"  THESE  papers,"  said  Traverse,  after  lie  and  Doe 
had  carefully  examined  the  documents  obtained  from 
"Wilson,  "show  plainly  enough  that  Koe  is  a  villain, 
and  they  would  legally  establish  our  case,  if  we  could 
supply  legal  proof  of  what  they  represent." 

"  The  books  of  Roe  will  complete  what  the  papers 
lack,"  replied  Doe  :  "  they  contain  the  proof." 

"  Yery  true,"  said  Traverse  ;  "  but  how  are  we  to 
get  the  books  3" 

"  Surely,"  returned  Doe,  "  the  law  on  that  point  is 
compulsory  ?  On  an  order  of  the  court,  a  man  must 
produce  his  books." 

"  Doubtless,  he  must  produce  them,  if  they  are  in 
esse"  Traverse  replied :  u  but  suppose  Roe  swears 
that  he  cannot  find  them,  or  has  destroyed  them  ?" 

"  That  of  itself  would  condemn  him,"  said  Doe. 

"  Of  course  it  would,  in  the  minds  of  all  honorable 
men,"  returned  Traverse ;  "  but  it  would  not  estab- 
lish our  case  with  the  court." 

"  Then,"  said  Doe,  "  so  far  as  this  new  matter  i^ 
concerned,  we  are  reduced  to  such  power  of  intimida- 
tion as  the  papers  in  our  hands  possess." 

"  It  would  seem  so,"  Traverse  replied,  "  if  the  books 
do  not  come  at  our  call.  When  we  have  ascertained 
that,  we  must  try  the  screw  and  the  lever." 

"  "Which,"  added  Doe,  "  are  not  likely  to  prove 


298 


294  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

toys  tinder  our  management,  if  we  may  judge  of  what 
they  can  do  by  what  they  have  done.  If  the  desire 
for  those  papers  could  send  Roe  to  the  Tombs'  on  such 
an  errand,  what  may  not  the  fear  of  them  produce, 
when  we  are  playing  against  him  ?" 

"  There  certainly  is  great  force  in  that  suggestion," 
said  Traverse.  "  Now  let  us  go  over  the  case,  and  at 
some  length,  omitting  what  is  already  set  forth  in  the 
pleadings.  "We  can  furnish  positive  proof  that  a  lit- 
tle before  three  o'clock  on  the  day  of  "Wilson's  escape, 
Roe  bought  a  vial  of  chloroform  at  Scalpel's  shop, 
and  took  Tom  off  on  a  fool's  errand  in  search  of  a 
prescription  that  never  was  written ;  and  then  gave 
the  boy  the  slip  in  the  cars.  Soon  after,  he  calls  at 
the  Tombs  and  remains  in  Wilson's  cell  until  the 
next  morning ;  Wilson  having  in  the  meantime 
escaped  in  Roe's  clothes  under  circumstances  per- 
fectly consistent  with  Roe's  collusion,  but  not  easily 
conceivable  on  any  other  theory.  In  the  morning,  a> 
vial  of  chloroform  is  found  in  the  cell,  of  the  same 
size  as  the  one  sold  by  Scalpel,  but  not  otherwise 
identified.  No  man  can  distinguish  one  vial  from  a 
thousand  others  just  like  it,  when  the  suspicious 
fact  of  a  removal  of  the  label  has  taken  place.  I 
would  like  to  hear  Roe's  explanation  of  his  purchase 
of  that  vial  of  chloroform  ! 

"  Then,"  continued  Traverse,  "  we  have  in  Roe's 
hand  writing  a  sketch  or  abstract  of  an  account 
with  Peters,  showing  a  balance  due  Peters  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty  five  thousand  dollars  on  the  1st 
of  January,  18 —  ;  with  a  hypothetical  memorandum 
in  pencil  that  he,  Roe,  can  probably  wheedle  your 
sister,  as  sole  executrix,  into  settling  with  him  and 
granting  him  a  release  on  his  paying  her  the  odd 


JOHN    DOE   AND    RICHARD    ROE.  295 

fifteen  thousand  dollars ;  which  is  exactly  the  amount 
he  did  pay  her.  This  abstract  of  account,  Wilsor 
Bays,  exactly  corresponds  to  Peters's  account  in  Roe's 
books.  We  have  also  in  Roe's  hand  writing  the  origi- 
nal letter  from  himself  to  Mrs.  Peters — which  letter 
Bhe  received  about  the  time  of  its  date,  though  she 
afterward  unaccountably  lost  it — in  which  Roe  boldly 
proposes  to  make  false  settlements  with  Peters's  indi- 
vidual creditors,  assuring  her  that  such  a  course  is 
necessary  in  order  to  enable  him  to  secure  the  fifteen 
thousand  dollars  for  herself,  asking  her  to  sign  an 
enclosed  power  of  attorney  to  facilitate  him  in  con- 
cluding the  fraud,  and  telling  her  to  destroy  his  said 
letter,  so  soon  as  she  has  answered  it.  I  would  like 
to  hear  Roe's  explanation  of  that ! 

"  Again,"  pursued  Traverse,  "  we  have  a  paper  in 
Roe's  hand  writing  that  at  least  very  strongly  indi- 
cates his  complicity  with  Green  in  that  old  fraud  of 
the  Trust  Company's  bonds,  by  which  the  company 
lost  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  whoever  gained  it. 
The -proof  furnished  by  that  paper  is  not  conclusive  of 
Roe's  participation  of  that  fraud :  but  if  he  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it,  I  would  like  him  to  explain 
how  the  paper  comes  to  be  in  his  hand  writing ! 

"  Finally,"  added  Traverse,  "  we  have  the  affair  of 
the  hat.  I  am  not  aware  of  any  statute  that  specifi- 
cally prohibits  a  man  in  Roe's  position  from  going  to 
the  house  where  Snap  '  spotted '  him ;  but  I  would 
like  to  hear  him  explain  to  the  vestry  of  Doctor  Per- 
kins's church  what  he  was  doing  there !  And  I 
fancy,  he  would  rather  fit  out  a  missionary  or  two  to 
the  Sandwich  Islands,  than  have  that  question 
brought  before  the  vestry.  Now,  these  are  things 
that  can  be  proved :  but  how  far  they  will  help  us  in 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD    ROE. 

the  case,  or  in  intimidating  Roe  into  a  settlement, 
remains  to  be  seen.  Of  things  that  cannot  be  proved 
in  the  absence  of  Roe's  books,  we  have  "Wilson's  state- 
ment of  the  transposed,  altered  and  otherwise  falsified 
entries  in  those  books — a  statement  necessarily  true, 
though  incapable  of  being  substantiated  by  us  with- 
out Roe's  compulsory  aid.  We  may,  however,  by 
presenting  the  items  with  Wilson's  astounding  expli- 
citness,  force  Roe  to  believe  that  we  have  proof  of 
them,  apart  from  the  books,  and  we  may  thus  gain 
from  his  fears  and  his  consciousness  of  guilt,  as  much 
as  by  any  other  process.  In  my  opinion,  when  this 
array  of  facts  is  placed  before  Roe,  at  a  private  inter- 
view, he  will  be  frightened  into  an  equitable  adjust- 
ment of  your  sister's  claim  :  for,  however  such  facts 
may  fail  to  reach  his  case  in  contemplation  of  law,  an 
exposure  of  them  to  the  public  would  compel  the 
virtuous  Richard  to  quit  New- York  '  between  two 
days.'  To  be  sure,  this  is  a  style  of  practice  that  no 
lawyer  would  choose  to  pursue  as  a  system  :  but  he 
may  resort  to  it  in  an  exceptional  case  where  the 
collateral  and  contemporaneous  villainy  of  a  defend- 
ant can  be  conclusively  proved,  furnishing  presump- 
tive evidence  of  guilt  in  other  matters  where  the 
proof  halts.  The  only  objection,  that  I  see,  to  em- 
ploying such  machinery  against  Roe,  is  the  possi- 
bility of  his  having  dealt  honestly  with  Mrs.  Peters, 
however  improbable  such  an  hypothesis  is.  But  the 
reply  to  that  suggestion  is  conclusive :  his  books 
must  contain  proof  either  of  his  guilt  or  his  inno- 
cence :  if  he  refuses  to  produce  them,  that  refusal 
becomes  virtually  a  confession  of  guilt :  and  then, 
all  feeling  of  compunction  on  our  part  is  entirely 
swept  away." 


CHAPTEK  XXXIY. 

JOHN   DOE   VS.   KICHAKD   EOE. 

ON  a  certain  day  of  a  certain  month  in  the  year 
18 — ,  the  case  of  John  Doe  vs.  Kichard  Koe  was 
called  by  the  court,  and  the  counsel  on  both  sides 
actually  answered  "  ready." 

Traverse  inquired  whether  the  order  of  the  court 
for  the  production  of  the  defendant's  books  had  been 
complied  with  ? 

M.  Demurrer,  of  the  opposite  counsel,  responded 
that  the  order  had  not  been  complied  with,  for  good 
and  sufficient  reasons.  And  he  was  about  to  add 
some  explanation,  when  Traverse  interrupted  him. 

"  If  the  court  please,"  said  Traverse,  "  I  will  not 
trouble  my  learned  friend  to  explain.  But  I  will  ask 
leave  of  the  court  to  put  the  defendant  on  the  stand 
and  let  him  explain  why  the  books  are  not  here. 
The  point  is  material  to  us ;  and,  in  the  absence  of 
the  books,  we  may  be  compelled  to  ask  for  an 
adjournment  of  one  day,  so  that  we  can  adapt  oui 
proceedings  to  the  new  state  of  facts." 

Roe  accordingly  walked  up  to  the  stand.  His 
complacent  swagger,  as  he  passed  along,  notified  the 
audience  that  the  individual  now  about  to  be  sworn 
is  Richard  Roe,  banker  and  church  member.  And 
to  heighten  their  admiration,  when  the  officer  held 
out  the  Bible  and  asked  Roe  to  put  his  hand  on  it, 
Roe  took  a  step  backward,  bowed  majestically  and 

13*  ™. 


298  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

raised  his  hand  toward  the  tabernacle  already  swept 
and  garnished  for  his  private  accommodation  on 
high — to  let  the  officer  know,  and  the  judge  know, 
and  the  assembled  multitude  know,  that  he  didn't  do 
his  swearing  like  "  these  publicans." 

Since  there  was  no  help  for  it,  the  clerk  submitted 
to  Roe's  pomposity,  and  administered  the  oath,  with 
the  usual  well-known  solemnity,  in  the  following 
impressive  words : 

"  You  do  swear  in  the  presence  of  the  ever-living 
God  that  the  evid-you-sh-giv-t-mumble  jumble  gumble 
rumbletumblecourtandjuruTnblecourtandjuryevidtruth 
andwholeandallthatsortofevidhitormissandtlietp)  etc. 
etc.  etc" 

"  Mr.  Roe,"  said  Traverse,  "  I  will  waive  the  usual 
preliminary  questions  as  to  your  residence,  calling 
and  so  on,  which  are  getting  to  be  pretty  well  known 
in  New-York  "  (Roe  bows,  supposing  Traverse  intends 
a  compliment !)  "  and  ask  you  to  explain  your  disre- 
gard of  the  order  of  the  court  as  to  the  books  of  the 
firm  of  Richard  Roe  &  Co." 

"  My  explanation  is,  in  brief,  that  I  am  unable  to 
comply  with  that  order,"  said  Roe  very  blandly  and 
convincingly,  and  attempting  one  of  his  persuasive 
smiles;  but  the  big,  meaty  uppe?  lip  wouldn't  answer 
the  helm  and  he  achieved  nothing  but  a  quivering 
'grin. 

"  That  explanation  is  rather  too  '  brief,'  Mr.  Roe," 
said  Traverse.  "May  I  ask  you  to  elongate  it  a 
little?  Will  you  inform  us  as  to  the  nature  and 
extent  of  your  inability  ?" 

Roe  was,  or  supposed  himself  to  be,  a  match  for 
most  lawyers  in  the  game  of  "  witness."  He  there- 
fore took  measures  to  let  Traverse  know  that  he,  Roe, 


JOHN    DOE    AND    RICHARD   ROE.  299 

was  not  to  be  caught  with  the  chaff  of  generalities, 
and  he  replied  : 

"  I  don't  understand  your  .question,  sir." 

"  I  think  you  do,  sir,"  rejoined  Traverse,  quietly : 
"  I  think  you  do.  You  have  stated  your  inability  to 
produce  your  books ;  and  you  doubtless  know  what 
meaning  you  attach  to  the  word.  But  I  do  not  know 
your  meaning;  and  I  presume  the  court  does  not. 
My  question  is,  what  you  mean  by  inability  ?" 

"  By  inability  to  produce  my  books,"  Roe  replied 
magisterially  and  with  another  useless  attempt  at 
the  persuasive  smile,  "  I  mean  that  I  cannot  produce 
them." 

"  Why  can  you  not  produce  them  ?"  Traverse  con- 
tinued, patiently. 

"  Simply  because  they  are  not  there,"  was  Roe's 
conclusive  answer. 

"  Where  f"  persisted  Traverse. 

"  At  my  office,"  said  Roe. 

"  Might  they  not  be  elsewhere  ?"  rejoined  Tra- 
verse. 

"  They  might  be  anywhere,  I  suppose,"  said  Roe, 
smiling  in  fact  this  time,  upper  lip  and  all ;  for  his 
answer  was  not  false,  and  besides,  he  was  thinking  of 
a  funny  story  which  turned  on  what  a  facetious  old 
fellow  once  said  his  name  "  might  be." 

"  Do  you  know  of  their  being  anywhere  ?"  con- 
tinued Traverse,  steadily  pursuing  his  point  and  not 
assenting  to  Roe's  joke,  as  a  joke. 

"  "No,  sir,"  said  Roe,  "  not  elsewhere  than  at  my 
office." 

"  Have  they  ever  been  elsewhere  than  at  your 
office  ?" 

"  N —  not  to  my  knowledge." 


300  JOHN   DOE   AND   EIGHAED   ROE. 

"  "When  were  they  at  your  office  ?" 

"  I  can't  remember  how  long  they  were  there." 

"  That  is  not  an  answer  to  my  question.  But  no 
matter.  Were  they  there  on  the  1st  of  January, 
18—?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Ah,  that's  to  the  point :  but  how  do  you  know 
that  I" 

"  Because  that  is  the  date  up  to  which  they  were 
balanced  and  closed  on  account  of  the  death  of  Mr. 
Peters." 

"  Did  you  then  open  a  new  set  of  books  ?" 
'  I  did." 

"  What  became  of  the  old  books  ?" 

"  They  were  put  away." 

"  Where  ?" 

"  On  shelves,  in  the  middle  office." 

."  Were  they  ever  referred  to  after  they  were  put 
away  ?" 

"  Occasionally." 

"  For  how  long  a  time  ?" 

"  I  can't  say." 

"  For  twelve  months  ?" 

"  I  can't  say." 

"  One  month  ?" 

«  Yes— probably." 

«  Two  months  ?" 

"  Probably." 

"  Three  months  P 

"  Perhaps  so." 

"  Four  months  ?" 

"  I  really  can't  remember." 

"  Did  you  ever  miss  them  from  those  shelves  in  the 
middle  office  ?" 


JOHN    DOE    AND    RICHARD    ROE.  301 

"  N —  never,  until  I  received  the  order  to  produce 
them." 

"  Were  there  other  and  older  sets  of  books  on  those 
shelves  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Is  any  of  those  missing  ?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Sure  of  that  t" 

"  Perfectly  sure." 

"  Were  the  books  in  question,  I  mean  the  missing 
books,  plainly  in  sight  on  those  shelves  ?" 

"  They  were." 

"  WJiat  were  those  books,  severally  ?" 

"  Leger,  Journal,  Cash  Book,  Day  Book,  Cheque 
Books,  Letter  Books,  Bank  Books,  Ticklers." 

"  Were  they  all  put  away  together  ?  all  in  one 
place  ?" 

«  They  were." 

"  Is  every  one  of  them  now  missing  from  those 
shelves  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Are  you  perfectly  sure  of  that  ?" 

"  Perfectly  sure." 

"  Now,  sir,  will  you  tell  me — could  so  many  books 
have  been  removed  from  a  place  where  you  were 
daily  accustomed  to  see  them,  without  your  missing 
them  ?" 

"  I  can't  say." 

"  I  wish  you  to  say." 

"  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  can't  say." 

"  I  wish  you  to  say,  however." 

"  I  can't  say,  sir.  They  might  and  they  might 
not." 

Roe  was  growing  nervous.    He  didn't  quite  see  the 


302  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

point,  but  Traverse's  persistence  showed  there  was  a 
point,  and  he  would  just  now  have  "paid  hand- 
somely "  for  an  interruption  that  would  throw  Trav- 
erse off  the  scent  and  give  him,  Roe,  time  to  reflect 
and  study  out  a  dodge.  But  Traverse  gave  him  not 
a  moment. 

"  Mr.  Roe,"  he  pursued,  "  I  wish  you  to  answer 
my  question  :  Could  so  many  books  be  removed  from 
a  place  where  you  were  daily  accustomed  to  see 
them,  without  your  missing  them  ?  Please  to  say 
yes,  or  no." 

"  I  can't  say  yes  or  no.  I  can't  say  positively.  I 
don't  remember." 

"  I  don't  ask  you  to  remember,  sir.  I  ask  you  as 
to  a  matter  of  present  knowledge.  Could  so  many 
books  be  removed  without  your  missing  them  ?" 

"  I  have  answered  the  question,  sir,  so  far  as  I  can 
answer  it." 

"  Do  you  swear,  sir,  that  you  cannot  say  either  yes 
or  no,  to  my  question  ?" 

"  If  the  court  please,"  interposed  Mr.  Demurrer, 
"  this  seems  to  me  like  trifling  equally  with  the  time 
of  the  court  and  with  the  witness.  •  The  witness  has 
said  repeatedly  that  he  can't  answer  the  question.  I 
trust  the  court  will  protect  the  witness." 

"  The  court  will  commit  the  witness,  sir,  unless  he 
answers  the  question  !"  said  the  judge  peremptorily, 
his  patience  having  been  for  some  time  giving  way  at 
Roe's  prevarication,  and  now  breaking  down  entirely 
at  the  attempt  of  the  counsel  to  aid  him  in  it.  "  There 
is  trifling  here,  both  with  the  court  and  with  the  time 
of  the  court,  but  not  on  the  part  of  the  plaintiff. 
Repeat  your  question,  Mr.  Traverse." 

"  Could  so  many  books  have  been  removed  from  a 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  303 

place  where  you  were  daily  accustomed  to  see  them, 
without  your  missing  them  ?" 

"  I  suppose  they  might,  sir,"  answered  Roe  :  men- 
tally reserving  the  point  that,  as  he  answered  under 
compulsion,  he  was  not  responsible  for  the  answer. 

"  Were  they  removed  without  your  missing  them  ?" 
Traverse  continued. 

"  They  were." 

"  Are  you  positive  of  that  ?' 

«  I  am." 

"  How  can  you  be  positive  of  it  ?" 

"  Because  they  were  removed,  and  I  did  not  miss 
them." 

"  Why,  then,  did  you  so  often  say  that  you  could 
not  answer  my  question,  when  your  last  remark  shows 
that  you  could  have  answered  it  at  first  ?" 

"  I  didn't  understand  your  question,  Mr.  Traverse. 
I  thought  you  wanted  me  to  say  when  I  first  missed 
the  books." 

"  Do  you  swear  that  that  is  what  you  thought  I 
wanted  you  to  say  2" 

"  I  do,  sir " — (persuasive  smile  attempted.  No 
use !) 

"  Mr.  Reporter,"  said  Traverse,  turning  to  the 
stenographer,  "  will  you  read  the  question  that  I  put 
to  the  witness  ?" 

—  "  Could  so  many  books  have  been  removed  from 
a  place  where  you  were  daily  accustomed  to  see  them, 
without  your  missing  them  ?" — 

"  How  many  times  was  that  question  repeated,  Mr. 
Reporter  ?"  said  Traverse. 

"  Three  times,  sir,"  answered  the  stenographer. 

"  I  would  like  to  inquire,"  said  Mr.  Demurrer, 
rising  with  great  dignity  and  directing  toward  Tra- 


304:  JOHN   DOE   AND    RICHARD   EOE. 

verse  one  of  those  looks  of  withering  superiority  with 
which  old  lawyers  so  often  demolish  young  lawyers, 
"  I  would  like  to  inquire  whether  the  Reporter  has 
been  sworn  ?" 

"  You  know  very  well,  sir,  that  he  has  not," 
answered  Traverse,  not  at  all  demolished,  "  and  that 
there  is  no  occasion  that  he  should  be.  Every  man 
present  knows  his  report  is  correct.  Mr.  Hoe,"  Tra- 
verse continued,  turning  again  to  the  witness,  "  the 
question  which  the  Reporter  has  just  read  was  put  to 
you  slowly  and  distinctly  three  times,  and  you  after- 
ward swore  that  you  didn't  understand  it.  I  don't 
ask  you  to  explain  that.  I  prefer  leaving  it  to  the  con- 
sideration of  the  court,  and  to  the  recollection  of  all 
who  heard  your  answer.  I  now  ask  you,  sir,  have 
you,  or  have  you  not,  already  sworn  that  you  did  not 
miss  the  books  until  you  received  the  order  of  the 
court  to  produce  them  ?" 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  say  that,"  answered  Roe,  now 
completely  bewildered. 

"  What  did  you  mean  to  say  ?" 

"  Well — really — I  don't  recollect,  distinctly." 

"  Do  you  recollect  indistinctly  ?" 

"  I  cannot  be  positive.  My  memory  doesn't  serve 
me  on  that  point." 

"  On  what  point  ?" 

"  I  mean — that — I  don't  recollect." 

Roe  was  at  his  wits'  end ;  and  it  didn't  help  his 
embarrassment  to  observe  that  court,  counsel  and 
spectators  were  all  on  the  eve  of  a  broad  grin — at 
the  least. 

"  Mr.  Roe,"  said  Traverse,  "  I  think  we  are  getting 
a  little  foggy.  I  will  change  the  subject.  I  will  ask 
you,  sir,  whether  you  mean  now  to  swear  that  you 


JOHN    DOE    AND    RICHARD   ROE.  305 

know  nothing  about  the  present  condition  and  locality 
of  the  books  in  question — any  of  them,  or  all  of 
them  ?" 

"  I  can't  find  them  at  my  office,"  said  Roe,  de- 
lighted at  an  opportunity  to  touch  bottom  some- 
"where,  though  by  an  evasion ;  "  and  as  to  their  pre- 
sent condition,  I  have  not  seen  them  for  several  years." 

"  That  is  no  answer  to  my  question,  Mr.  Roe,"  re- 
turned Traverse.  "  And  besides,  you  might  say  that 
with  perfect  truth  even  on  the  extravagant  supposition 
that  a  gentleman  of  your  high  character"  (Roe  bows 
again)  "  had  inconsiderately  secreted,  or  defaced,  or 
destroyed  those  books  several  years  ago.  However, 
the  court  has  heard  my  last  question,  and  your 
answer  to  it.  I  am  content  to  leave  the  matter  there. 
He  is  your  witness,  Mr.  Demurrer."  • 

But  Mr.  Demurrer  seemed  to  be  also  content  to 
leave  the  matter  there;  and  not  to  appreciate  the 
privilege  of  having  Roe  for  a  witness.  At  any  rate, 
all  the  use  he  made  of  his  witness,  was  to  dismiss 
him  with  the  stereotyped  phrase,  "  that  will  do,  Mr. 
Roe."  And  Mr.  Roe  stepped  away  from  the  stand 
with  a  swagger  as  different  as  possible  from  the 
swagger  with  which  he  stepped  toward  it. 

Traverse  now  moved  an  adjournment  until  the  en- 
suing day,  to  prepare  for  proceeding  without  the 
books.  Nobody  opposed  the  motion. 

As  the  parties  withdrew  from  the  court-room,  Roe 
whispered  to  Demurrer,  inquiring  how  he  thought 
the  case  stood? 

"  The  case!"  echoed  Demurrer,  testily  ;  "  the  case 
doesn't  '  stand'  at  all,  that  I  can  see.  But  I  can  tell 
you  where  /stand,  if  you  wish  to  know." 

"Where?"   inquired   Roe,  tremulously;    for    the 


306  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   KOE. 

tone  and  manner  of  Demurrer  were  anything  but 
assuring  to  Roe's  delicate  nerves. 

"  I  stand,"  retorted  Demurrer,  "  where,  according 
to  the  proverb,  any  man  stands  who  is  his  own  law- 
yer :  I  have  a  fool  for  a  client." 

Other  whisperings  took  place.  For  instance,  Doe 
said  to  Traverse, 

"  How  does  the  case  stand  ?" 

"  Just  as  we  want  it,"  said  Traverse :  "  we  can 
compromise  now  on  our  own  terms." 


Roe  returned  to  his  office,  after  the  adjournment 
of  the  court,  apparently  in  some  doubt  as  to  the 
wisdom  of  his  having,  years  ago,  hidden  a  part,  and 
destroyed  the  remainder,  of  the  books  of  Richard 
Roe  &  Co.  It  was  a  good  joke  in  the  time  of  it  to 
put  the  books  out  of  harm's  way ;  but  not  quite  so 
funny  to  be  catechised  on  the  subject  under  oath,  be- 
fore a  court-room  full  of  people,  by  a  lawyer  who 
suspected  the  truth  and  who,  by  his  method  of  ques- 
tioning, forced  Roe  into  corroborating  those  suspi- 
cions. That  was  far  more  than  Roe  had  bargained 
for.  And  now,  a  great  point  was  to  make  sure  that 
Jackson  kept  faith  with  him  by  keeping  himself  out 
of  the  way  as  a  witness.  lie  knew  the  story  of  the 
books,  in  part :  and  if  he  were  to  come  under  Tra- 
verse's examination,  the  suspicions  would  soon  take 
the  proportions  of  certainties. 

While  these  thoughts  were  occupying  Roe's  atten- 
tion, he  had  mechanically  taken  the  evening  news- 
paper and  looked  up  and  down  its  columns  without 
heeding  what  he  saw.  Presently  he  caught  a  sus- 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE.  307 

picion  of  Jackson's  name ;  and,  looking  more  care- 
fully, he  read  in  the  list  of  passengers  by  the  Persia, 
sailed  that  day  for  Liverpool,  "  Joseph  Jackson  and 
friend,  New  York." 

"What's  the  meaning  of  that,  William?"  to  his 
second  in  command.  Enter  William.  "  William,  I 
see  Mr.  Jackson's  name  among  the  passengers  by  the 
Persia.  Is  that  our  Mr.  Jackson  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  William  replied.  "  He  called  here  this 
morning  to  bid  us  good-bye." 

"  Where  was  I  ?"  said  Roe. 

"  At  court,  sir." 

And  the  young  man  withdrew,  leaving  Roe  "  tem- 
perate and  furious  in  a  moment."  Temperate,  that 
Jackson  was  out  of  the  way  of  the  trial :  furious,  that 
Jackson  had  escaped  his  vindictive  wrath,  The 
banker,  therefore,  went  home  to  dine  in  a  various 
state  of  mind.  -->  » 

Tiie  appearance  of  things  at  home  was  not  flatter- 
ing. Margaret  had  walked  out,  or  kept  her  room 
with  a  head-ache ;  at  any  rate,  she  was  not  visible. 
And  as  to  Mrs.  Roe,  not  only  was  there  an  ominous 
"  goneness "  about  herself,  but  also  about  certain  of 
her  personal  chattels.  Articles  of  her  toilette  were 
missing.  Her  wardrobe  was  empty.  A  little  bit  of 
a  note  lay  on  Roe's  dressing-table — some  invitation  to 
somebody's — no;  not  the  shape  of  an  invitation — 
what  the  devil  ? 

"DEAR  EICHA.ED, — Buy  another  Helen,  for  I  hare  emigrated 
into  the  heart  of  Paris.  HELEN, 

(but  not  '  yowr*.')" 

"  Philip,"  said  Roe,  as  the  darkey  announced  din- 


308  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAKD   KOE. 

ner,  "  how  came  that  scratch  on  the  wall  at  the  foot 
of  the  stairs  ?" 

"  Madame's  big  trunk,  sir,"  said  Philip ;  "  the 
cartman  slipped  a-going  down  stairs." 

"  Then  Mrs.  Roe  has  gone  " 

"Yes,  sir,  up  the  river,  to  Hyde  Park,"  Philip 
replied. 

"  Up  the  river  Styx  to  hell !"  muttered  Roe 
to  himself.  "  Joseph,  Jackson  and  friend,  New 
York,  by  the  Persia.  That's  it!  Helen  to  Paris. 
Helen  and  Paris.  Helen  with  Paris.  We  are 
classical." 

And  Roe  sat  down  to  dine,  all  alone  by  himself, 
and  nobody  with  him.  It  mattered  little  what  he 
ate  or  what  .he  drank. 

When  Richard  had  finished  his  dinner  and  his 
after  dinner  nap,  and  was  considering  how  he  would 
dispose  of  the  evening,  two  cards  were  handed  in  by 
Philip.  The  gentlemen  were  waiting  to  know 
whether  Mr.  Roe  was  disengaged. 

Mr.  Roe  was  disengaged.  The  names  on  the  cards 
were,  respectively,  John  Doe  and  Alfred  Traverse. 
Circumstances,  domestic  and  private,  and  unknown 
to  the  two  gentlemen,  had  combined  to  put  Richard 
Roe  in  a  mood  even  more  pliable  than  they  had 
counted  on. 

"  You  hardly  expected  a  call  from  us,  I  imagine," 
said  Doe. 

"  I  cannot  say  I  did,  indeed,"  Roe  replied  :  "  yet 
extremes  do  meet,  as  somebody  says." 

"  We  have  called  on  you,  Mr.  Roe,"  said  Traverse, 
"  to  propose  a  settlement  of  this  case,  on  what  we 
consider  an  equitable  basis.  Are  you  prepared  to 
negotiate  ?" 


JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   EOE.  309 

"I  am  prepared  to  hear  what  you  have  to  say, 
gentlemen,"  said  the  cautious  Roe. 

"  Then,  without  any  preliminaries,"  said  Traverse, 
"  I  will  state,  at  length  and  in  detail,  exactly  what  we 
know,  what  we  can  produce,  and  what  we  intend  to 
obtain  from  you  in  consideration  of  a  settlement — if 
we  can  agree  at  all." 

And  in  as  plain  terms  as  are  used  elsewhere  in  this 
history  on  the  same  subject,  Traverse  presented  the 
matter  from  beginning  to  end.  In  short,  he  pat  the 
case  home.  The  terms  of  settlement,  he  said,  would 
not  be  made  a  subject  of  negotiation.  He  would 
take  a  fixed  sum,  secured  to  be  paid  within  six 
months,  or  the  plaintiff  would  proceed  with  the  suit. 
He  didn't  wish  to  be  offensively  peremptory.  But 
business  is  business.  The  fixed  sum  is  one  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  dollars,  being  a  reduction  of 
nearly  one  half  from  the  total  of  principal  and  inter- 
est to  which  the  plaintiff  believes  himself  entitled. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Roe,  when  Traverse  had  made 
an  end  of  speaking,  "  as  you  say,  business  is  business : 
and  I  have  no  remarks  or  comments  to  offer.  To- 
morrow morning,  in  court,  you  shall  learn  what 
course  I  intend  to  take." 


At  the  usual  hour,  on  the  following  morning,  a 
large  crowd  of  people  were  assembled  to  hear  the 
trial  of  Doe  vs.  Roe ;  and  at  the  usual  hour,  the  offi-' 
cer  of  the  day  opened  the  court  with  his  usual  dis- 
tinctness of  articulation. 

The  spectators  observed  that  the  defendant  was  not 
present,  in  person ;  but  he  was  well  represented  by 
the  firm  of  Demurrer,  Trover  and  Tort.  They  ob- 


310  JOHN   DOE   AND   EICHAED   KOE. 

served,  moreover,  that  Traverse  and  Demurrer  were 
in  consultation ;  and  when  the  two  separated  to  take 
their  respective  places,  the  spectators  fancied  that 
Traverse  was  in  much  better  spirits  than  his  learned 
friend. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  judge,  "  are  you  ready  to 
go  on  with  this  case  ?" 

"  If  the  court  please,"  said  Traverse,  "  I  have  the 
pleasure  to  announce  that  this  case  is  settled,  by  pri- 
vate agreement  between  the  parties." 

The  judge  half  rose  from  his  seat  and  leaned  for- 
ward with  comic  incredulity  in  his  face,  saying, 

"  Do  I  understand  you,  Mr.  Traverse  ?  Is  this  case 
actually  at  an  end  ?" 

"  It  is  actually  at  an  end,  if  the  court  please,"  Tra- 
verse replied. 

"  Mr.  Clerk !"  said  the  judge,  with  an  exuberant 
smile,  and  with  irrepressible  glee,  "  enter  on  the  re- 
cord that  the  celebrated  case'  of  John  Doe  vs.  Eichard 
Roe  is  taken  out  of  the  calendar  and  beyond  the  con- 
trol of  this  court.  And,  sir,"  he  added,  as  every- 
body was  catching  the  joke  and  beginning  to  titter, 
"  adjourn  the  court  to  this  day  fortnight  /" 

A  jubilant  roar  of  laughter  was  the  requiem  of 

JOHN  DOE 

vs. 
RICHAED  ROE. 


POSTSCEIPT. 

An  intelligent,  but  officious,  friend — a  man  of 
some  taste,  too,  in  literary  matters — who  stood  look- 
ing over  my  shoulder  as  I  wrote  those  concluding 
words,  remarked  in  an  impatient  tone, — 

"  That  will  never  do !  That  is  no  way  to  end  a 
novel !  You  must  dispose  of  your  characters." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  I,  "  don't  get  excited  !  1 
have  fulfilled  the  promise  of  my  title  page,  which  is 
all  any  writer  is  bound  to  do.  If  some  credulous 
reader  has  allowed  himself  to  expect  a/nything  more 
than  certain  '  Episodes  of  Life  in  New  York,'  I  may 
regret  his  disappointment,  but  I  am  not  responsible 
for  it.  Besides,  que  voulez  vous  f  The  good  people 
of  whom  I  have  given  you  some  biographical 
sketches,  are  not  under  my  control.  They  are  not, 
as  you  intimate,  at  my  '  disposal.'  They  will  man- 
age their  own  affairs  hereafter,  as  they  have  done 
hitherto — just  as  they  please.  Moreover,  my  sketchy 
account  of  them,  which  you  call  '  a  novel,'  is  nothing 
of  the  kind.  It  is  a  history ;  and,  having  brought 
my  history  down  to  the  present  day,  I  come  to  a  stop 
as  a  matter  of  course.  Not  being  a  prophet,  I  have 
no  power  to  proceed.  I  do  not  know  how  the  elder 
and  younger  Miss  Doe,  Margaret  Roe,  and  Phebe 
Pinch,  will  arrange  their  little  matrimonial  matters. 
They  may  all  change  their  minds  for  aught  I  can 
tell ;  and,  anyhow,  there's  many  a  slip  between  the 
cup  and  the  lip.  It  will  be  time  enough  for  me  to 


312  JOHN   DOE   AND   RICHARD   ROE. 

meddle  with  those  things  when  they  take  place. 
And  so,  of  our  young  friend  Tom :  he  may  do  well 
or  ill  in  his  vocation  ;  but  I  can't  write  his  story  be- 
fore he  enacts  it.  I  think  I  can  guess  what  Richard 
Hoe  is  coming  to.  But  for  the  others,  I  can  promise 
only  this :  if  they  do  or  say  anything  hereafter  that 
is  worth  mentioning,  I  will  endeavor  to  continue 
their  history  in  the  style  of  the  preceding  narrative. 
A  promise,  as  you  perceive,  that  is  conditional — de- 
pending necessarily  on  the  acts  of  other  people." 

Meantime,  I  offer  my  acknowledgments  for  the 
favor  with  which  these  sketches  have  been  received 
in  their  serial  form ;  and  I  avail  .myself  of  this  op- 
portunity to  express  to  my  readers  the  assurances  of 
toy  distinguished  consideration. 

NEW  YOEK,  June,  1862. 


THE     END. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


HP  RHBi 


